What Tangled Webs We Weave
by LemonadeStand
Summary: Seething, "What the hell was that?" she said. "Smartest witch of our age, my arse," he muttered. "What was that, Malfoy?" she asked, waiting. "That, was me kissing you, Granger."
1. Fine day, don't you say?

**Part 1: One shot, two shot, three shot, four. …And a little more.**

"Four shots. Hardest thing you have," said a male voice.

She didn't even bother to look up to see who had (thankfully) ordered them for her.

_One._

Hermione Granger was a very unlucky girl today.

You know those mornings when you wake up on the "wrong side of the bed," so to speak?

This was worse.

Much, much worse.

Typically, Hermione loved her job. She was able to help her world, the Wizarding world. At twenty-three years old, she was second in command in the highest law prosecuting office of Britain. Yes, life was treating her fairly well.

Today, however, was a whole other story.

The day started like any other did. She woke up quite tired and turned on her Wireless on the way to brush her teeth.

That was when she heard the first piece of news that ruined her day.

The clear excited voice of Fredrick Jacobs whizzed throughout her small flat as the water faucet ran clear.

"It's a beautiful October morning, folks. You can expect delays at main entrance of the Ministry of Magic this morning. Ryan Docker has managed to let loose yet _another _batch of pixies and the Ministry is having a hard time rounding all of them up…" Jacobs trailed off.

"In other news, Quinn Railings was found in a Muggle suburb just last night. Suspected of trading dangerous dark objects, he was taken into custody. Upon further investigation with Veraterrsim, it has been concluded that not only was he smuggling dark objects in and out of the country, but he has admitted to the Muggle killings of the Inkwell family and framing of Peter Inkwell." Hermione froze.

"As we all know, Peter was kissed last week after being prosecuted by lawyer Hermione Granger in direct connection to the murders of his family…"

"A ministry spokesman has also let out that Railings is also suspected in the murders of Jennate Cooper and unborn child, found last week in a similar state of the Inkwells," Jacobs finished. He moved on to less morose topics then, but Hermione hadn't heard a word.

_Fuck._

She had been convinced, absolutely convinced that Peter had done it…everyone had. All of the evidence had pointed to him. He continually denied ever having any involvement with the death of his three squib children and Muggle wife, but most murderers wouldn't actually admit to murder…

_Two._

All day Hermione had shut herself up in her office, silent tears rolling down her face.

She had _asked _for this case. Wanted it. She was a Muggle-born, and that certainly helped with the Jury.

For a _fucking _promotion.

Now, her perfect career was ruined, tainted.

Sure, others had made mistakes regarding the law but _never _Hermione Granger. Golden girl. A first. After four years working at the law office, not a single problem. Many praises from judges, lawyers, high-powered pure-bloods, even. Now this.

Harry had tried to talk to her. He came around eight o'clock knocking ruthlessly on her door and barging in.

And the sight before him was heartbreaking.

Her face was crinkled, messy. Her clothes didn't match, and he would have sworn she had worn the same shirt the day previous at their lunch outing…

Her hair was a messy disarray of tangles, hanging in a very lose bun at the base of her neck as the front curls escaped and stuck to her tear-stained face. She was currently going through a mess of paperwork scattered on her desk.

She wasn't concentrated on him, in fact, she didn't even look up when he entered.

"Hermione, it's really not your fa-" Harry started weakly as he saw his best friend in such a mess.

"St-STOP, Harry. Really. I appreci-appreciate it, but really, you don't have to lie to me. I was the one who…I, I…I…insisted the k-kiss," she said stuttering through choked sobs.

Another voice boomed in the room, making Harry jump.

"You have a floo in the main room, Ms. Granger. Would you like me to…?"

"She wont be taking calls right now, thank you. I'm going to take her home…she's in no state to speak with anyone," Harry called back approaching Hermione carefully. He was never any good at this kind of stuff.

He took her home then, not bothering to ask her if she even wanted to go.

_Three_.

The rest of the day was spent in bed, crying and moping around until she started looking for her small collection of Champagne. After fifteen minutes of half-arsed searching, she finally had had enough and decided it would be better just to head to a Muggle pub.

_Four._

"Ugk," she said grimacing at the small glass which was now empty, spare a drop or two of brown liquid at the bottom.

Slamming it down on the table next to the other three she finally looked to her right, directly at the man who had bought her those four shots.

He was a relatively heavy man, she figured. He had a small tuft of light brown hair combed neatly to the side and he was wearing a large tan cloak.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly.

"You look like you needed it," he said grinning.

"Mark Roberts," he held his hand out for her to shake.

"Not interested," she said waving him off. She hoped he didn't recognize who she was…although, it was hard _not_ to notice who she was. She prayed he was a muggle.

Now normally, she would have fooled around the preliminaries of meeting a person. She would have introduced herself in a fine manner, but then again, it was not a good day to meet Hermione Granger.

The man looked at her for a second, and then he furrowed his eyebrows and turned away, leaving the bar and slamming the door angrily.

She cringed. Maybe that _was_ a bit uncalled for.

"Hey you! Yeah, you," she said calling the barman over to her.

"Give me your biggest cup, full to the top with your strongest alcohol," she said with all the power she could muster from her dried out voice.

**Part 2: Defense for the undefendable. **

It was an ordinary day for Draco Malfoy. He was sitting in his office. He prided himself in that office.

When he had been nineteen, he had been given that small cubical at the Ministry. Now, it was still just as small, but with everything the way a Malfoy should have it.

The old battered and ink-stained desk had been replaced with a beautiful mahogany desk that he had bought himself. His filing cabinets were top of the line, with extra added protection charms of his own accord.

His desk wasn't messy like the filthy spaces around him, but it was clean, organized and elegant.

There was a single picture on his desk.

As small fifth years, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Theodore Nott all stood lined up in front of the manor Draco had grown up in. They didn't embrace in the picture like a group of normal friends would, instead they all stood there, arms folded and a devious smirk upon each of their features.

That was eight years ago.

The war had not been kind to Draco Malfoy. He of course, was a Malfoy. After the war had ended and Lucius had been sent to Azkaban the Malfoy name had been ruined. Centuries of respect that had been gained throughout the years was long gone, and the Malfoy's had been a joke. A complete and utter joke.

Of course, Draco still had his inheritance. In fact, he had enough money to never work again in his lifetime (and a few more). But being Draco Malfoy, he needed everything he wanted.

As a boy, it was no secret that Draco had admired his father. He admired the power he had over people, the way he could manipulate a situation to get it to fit his exact needs.

But Draco was no fool. Money, Draco soon learned, could not solve every problem he had. No amount of bribery or donation would sway the public of their view of the family.

So Draco then sought a way that could.

And that would be a job. An actual _job._

No Malfoy had ever been known to have someone to report to. Draco would have to be the first in order to gain the respect of the Wizarding world back.

And that's how Draco Malfoy wound up working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

When Draco had approached Roger Carlton for a job, he was ready to do anything he could to get a job as a lawyer.

Too bad they put him as a defense lawyer.

In fact, most of the cases Draco was assigned involved the dark arts and defending some idiotic Hufflepuff who didn't know how to cover his tracks.

The public had thought it ironic, really. Draco Malfoy defending people, trying to keep them out of Azkaban.

He tried, really, he did. But there was only so much a man could do when his defendant had forgotten to obliviate the muggle witnesses.

But then there were the innocent.

There were more than he would have believed at first, more people who were targeted because of their relatives wrong doing. People who were convicted wrongly because of prejudices against the pure-blood society after the war.

And that's when Draco started to take his job seriously.

After many investigations and trips to Azkaban to obtain memories from prisoners, Draco had finally won his first case when he was twenty-one, almost a year after he had started his job.

He had won thirty-three cases in his three years of working for the ministry as an underpaid Defense Attorney. That was, of course, quite an astronomical number for someone as young as twenty-three, and someone with a past like himself.

That morning had started completely ordinary, a simple cup of straight black coffee with his edition of _The Daily Prophet _before he went over his notes _again_ for the last case he had lost. But the front headline had caught his attention.

Every lawyer in Britain had heard about the Inkwell case.

It was one of the biggest cases of murder since the war had ended and the Dark Lord's demise.

Granger had done a fantastic job with the case, of course. Flawless performance in front of the Wizengamont and had everyone convinced, (though he would never admit it himself,) him included.

So when the front page headline titled in black, bolded ink "PETER INKWELL INNOCENT AFTERALL, HERMIONE GRANGER'S BIG MISTAKE" it was quite a surprise to him.

The fact that Granger, know-it-all _Granger_, had made an actual mistake that cost an innocent man his soul was an unpredictable change of things.

He had to admit, he admired Granger in a way, well, the best way you could admire someone that used to be your most hated enemy. Granger worked in the same field as him, though never actually working against her in the courtroom, he had still seen her in action. The first time he had seen her since the final battle was watching her absolutely demolish Flint's (quite good) argument when he was just starting to study the court and learning the laws and rules. She hadn't neglected to contradict a single piece of information that Flint had provided, never missing a beat. Her words flowed with perfect articulation and pauses in the exact places of persuasion. It was quite a performance, and the Wizengamont had voted unanimously against the man who admitted to his wrong doings on stand, stuttering and tumbling over his words.

It was absolutely brilliant, watching the boy who had tortured him on the Quidditch field for losing to the-boy-who-couldn't-die, lose to the female sidekick of Potter himself. He had to stifle a laugh at the look on Flints face…

Draco grinned in remembrance.

But _bloody hell_, Granger! She was wrong! Something so unprecedented and astonishing.

"Draco," said a familiar voice. He looked up.

"Hello, Flint," Draco drawled, moving his notes to the side of his desk and bringing his piping-hot coffee up to his lips. Of course, there was a round circle of brown imprinted on the topmost paper, probably leaked through, too.

"So you've heard?" Flint said, his voice was unusually cheery.

"Heard what?" Draco asked, playing dumb (though some would say he wasn't playing).

"Granger, bloody _Granger_ was wrong!" He said excitedly.

"Really? I hadn't heard, I mean, the headline on front of the paper you see me reading every morning, you would think I would've heard…" Draco trailed off sarcastically.

Flints eyes narrowed.

His voice was cooler now, he sounded more Slytherin. "No need to be so witty, Malfoy. You know I've been waiting on her downfall for ages," Flint said with a evil glint sparking in his eyes.

"Yes, well as fun as listening to you rant and rave about Granger this early in the morning is, I have some notes to get to," Draco said. It was obvious he didn't want to discuss this.

"She's probably a bloody wreck right now, mate. She's a girl…can't handle the job," Flint said smugly.

"Yeah, that's why you absolutely trashed her in the courtroom," Draco said, dripping with sarcasm.

Flint sneered at him and walked off and Draco tried to hide his smirk.

Malfoy would not consider Flint a friend of his. Merely an acquaintance at work that he would occasionally have small-talk with.

The day continued gruesomely for Draco. After trying to decipher his own coffee-stained handwriting for a good half hour, he was given a huge stack of paper work he needed to fill out after a won case by Flint and another one of his co-workers, Damien Rogues. The majority of the day was taken up with one-third of the paperwork that needed to be done by Draco, and not them (because he was the only one in the damn office who could fill out paperwork _correctly_).

At the end of the day, he decided he would head out for a few drinks first.

Wandering aimlessly around London, finally wandered into a rather small pub.

There were ten to fifteen people sitting around the tables on old wooden stools. Quiet chatter filled the pub, and Draco immediately realized he was in a muggle pub where no one would recognize him.

He had done this numerous times, so he knew what to order as he sat at on an empty barstool a couple seats from a haggard looking woman.

"I'll take a whiskey," Draco said as the barman approached him.

While his drink was being made, he took in his surroundings. There was a rather overweight haughty looking man walking away from the woman. The man walked past the woman, muttering something about having no manners and slamming the door.

His cup was set in front of him and Draco took a sip.

He heard a slurred and rather familiar voice call from the bar, "Hey you! Yeah, you," the barman left Draco and moved to the woman four or five barseats down.

He could faintly hear her voice for another drink, but he would recognize it anywhere.

Bloody hell, it was Hermione Granger.

Drowning in her sorrows, he supposed.

_Well, this could get interesting._

He put on his best smirk and got up taking his whisky, and sat right next to her.

"Why, hello Granger! Fine day, don't you say?"


	2. Murderer

**Part 1: When it rains, it pours.**

To say that she was surprised would be a lie.

She wasn't surprised that someone that knew her would be here. Of course someone _had_ to be here that recognized her. A bad day must be added by some sort of paparazzi prat to trying to sneak comments out of her. And since she didn't necessarily recognize the voice, she figured it'd be someone of that sort. Still, she couldn't stifle the groan that escaped from the back of her throat.

"Get the fuck out of my face before I hex you so far you wont live to see another _fine _day," she spat, not bothering to look at her intruder.

She figured whoever he was he'd get the picture and leave, I mean she did have a major part in the downfall of Voldemort. But as she took another long drink from her (quite large) glass of god-knows-what, she still felt the annoying presence another person, and out of her peripheral vision noticed a dark cloak blocking the nearest lamp.

Slamming her drink down on the table (regrettably, some spilled,) she turned sprung up, right land immediately going to the pocket of the grey sweats she was wearing.

Standing up, however, did not seem to help the situation. She felt she was closer now to the stranger, and she had to look quite far up to see his face.

He was smirking.

Well of course he was smirking. It was Draco _fucking_ Malfoy.

The little (or quite large, she corrected herself) obnoxious Ferret. What the hell was _he_ doing here? She hadn't seen him in what? A year, if she was lucky. Occasionally hearing about him in _The Prophet _and _Witch Weekly_ but other than that, no direct contact with him since The Last Battle.

Of course, this was the day he decided to run into her at a _muggle_ pub. How many times had she even gone to a pub in the past four years? Five times total.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Malfoy?" she said coldly to him as she sat back down (while nearly falling back off the small stool) to take a drink.

"I don't know, _Granger_. What do you think big kids do in a pub? Study?" He sneered back at her as he took a seat. This was going to be fun.

She ignored his taunt. "Aren't you afraid your precious pure-blood skin will be tainted with all of these _muggle_ germs?"

She took another drink and scrunched her nose.

Waving the barman over she asked, "Why the hell does it taste so different every sip I take?"

"Sorry Mam, forgot to mix it…you seemed like you wanted it quite quickly," the barman replied with a reproached look as he set a drink in front of Malfoy.

Surprisingly, she laughed and finished the rest of the drink in one go.

He barman threw her a look as she motioned for him to pour another.

"You can pay for this, can't you miss?" he asked carefully.

She shrugged and grabbed her wallet from her purse pulling out a couple bills.

"This enough?" She asked, not wanting to attempt to remember the muggle money currency.

"Yeah…that's a lot more than enough," he looked at her funny, shrugging. She was probably just drunk.

He vacillated before pouring it in saying, "This is an awfully strong drink…you wont be driving I presume?" she waved him off.

"No, no, just pour it. I'll get home fine myself, don't worry about that," she replied laughing a little at him.

The barman poured the drink and walked away to another customer, shrugging.

"Didn't think you the alcoholic, Granger," Malfoy said into his cup, making his voice a little deeper.

"Don't act like you don't know exactly why I'm here, Malfoy," she snarled at him, taking another drink.

"Of course I do, Granger. I just thought you'd be off crying in Weasel-bee's arms, or something of the sort," he chuckled at the name he had created so long ago for her best friend.

"Don't pretend like you know my relationship with my friends, Malfoy. You didn't know shit about me in school, and you certainly don't' know shit about me now," she spat back at him, seething.

"Touché, Granger. I didn't think you cursing type either, or murderer, according to The Prophet…" he drawled back.

People like Malfoy were never people Hermione liked to argue with. They always seemed to unaffected by the honesty of her arguments and never seemed to quite believe that she meant what she said.

Also, Draco was astonishingly intelligent and witty (she didn't understand why, seeing as his was practically inbred, he probably had some secret deformity only girls that slept with him would know of,) though she would never say this aloud. He could always keep her on her feet, bringing in a good point or two. Sure, he was cruel, and a nasty little boy, but he always had some element of truth in his words…

"Oh shut up, Malfoy. Go find someone else to annoy," she said, waving her white flag for tonight.

"You're no fun, Granger," he frowned.

"Sorry I can't be of any use to you tonight," she said back sarcastically.

"Well…you can…" he trailed off.

She looked over at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Joking, Granger. Take a joke, will you?"

She took another drink.

**Part 2: People lose all the time.**

_Draco 1: Hermione 0_

He smirked into his nearly empty cup.

Okay, so maybe there was a small ounce of regret that filled his stomach. Maybe he had gone a little bit too far using the word _murder_. He knew exactly how it felt to have salt rubbed on early scabs. Remembering back to the time Flint had taunted him about his loss in his first case, about the man who still remained in Azkaban (and would for the rest of his life) due to Draco's lack of defense, wasn't a fun thing to experience.

So of course, Draco made up for it. Yes, maybe it was a bit twisted to even think of Granger in a sexual way, but by offering her to sleep with him was beyond a compliment for her, he thought. Yes, twisted, he was.

The silence between them had become a little too awkward for Draco's liking, so he decided to start talking again. He thought of what to say.

"You know Granger, you're not the first person to lose," he said with a strong voice.

She looked at him then, an astonished look on her face.

_Shit_, he thought. _Shouldn't have said a damned thing. I think she gave me that look when Professor Moody turned me into a ferrett…_

"Malfoy, _please _tell me I'm plastered off my ass and imagining _you_ trying to cheer _me_ up," she said, with that same look of _who-the-hell-are-you-and-what-have-you-done-with-Malfoy._

"Don't be so arrogant, Granger," he said smirking. "I'm not trying to cheer you up, I'm trying to make sure you don't go and kill yourself because you lost a case," he finished.

"First, I was not going to go and _kill_ myself, Malfoy. Second, I am not arrogant! If anyone is arrogant here, it would be you Malfoy, Mr. You're-not-good-enough-to-dust-my-robes. And third, why the hell would you even _care_ if I went and committed suicide?" she retorted.

"I don't believe in suicide, Granger. It's the cowards way out, and we both know you are no coward," he said back, his voice oddly detached.

"And what do you know about me, Malfoy?" she asked, honestly curious.

"Not much, but I don't need to read a biography to know you don't run from things in life. Any wizard would know, all they have had to hear is that you were sorted into Gryffindor," he completed.

"Dear gods, Malfoy. Was that a _compliment_?" she asked, stunned. She needed another drink, apparently because she took another long sip.

"No, I just said you are no coward. Sometimes, that can be a bad thing, too Granger. You Gryffindors run into problems without thinking out your strategies, without thinking what can go wrong," he smirked at her narrowed eyes.

"Malfoy, you can't judge every Gryffindor based on the action of one," she contradicted, knowing full well who he was talking about.

"You mean to say that you weren't there in the Department of Mysteries in fifth year, Granger? Funny…Father told me other things," her eyes were now reduced to slits and he vaguely wondered if she could even see him.

"Really? I wouldn't have thought he would have recognized _anyone _with that mask blocking the way," she replied.

Draco's eyes narrowed, and she quickly caught on to his sign of weakness.

"Touchy about that, Malfoy? Don't like me mentioning your pathetic excuse of a father who kissed the robes of a half-blood, himself?" she smirked at him.

He took a long drink from his glass.

"Thought so," she brought her drink back up to her lips and finished it off in another drink.

_Draco 1:Hermione 1_

There was another long, awkward silence as a large group of very drunk men left the bar, one falling over Draco's stool.

"Another," he heard her call over the barman, "Whisky this time, please," she said just loud enough for Draco to hear.

His glass was empty, too, so the barman poured him another drink as Draco gave him an acknowledging nod.

Putting his drink down, he turned back to face her.

"The press been on your arse yet?" he asked her, changing the subject.

She was confused, it was obvious. He guessed it was the alcohol that made her answer back, instead of telling him to sod off.

"No. I've been hiding all day," she said truthfully.

He chuckled.

"I know what you mean, bunch of nosy sods, aren't they?"

She nodded in agreement.

"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?"

"Excuse me?" Draco said, a little astonished.

"What. Are. You. Doing. Malfoy?" She repeated back with perfect articulation.

"Sitting here, having a drink with you, it seems," Draco drawled back.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because, I'm in a bloody _muggle _pub and I don't intend on talking with one of _them,_" he gestured over the room where a bunch of men were crowded around one woman. "And plus, you're the famous one right now, people would kill to get an interview with you," he finished with a grin on his face.

She took a long drink and Draco followed.

"Granger, you can't lock yourself in this pub forever, you know," he pointed out to her.

"I know, Malfoy. And that's what scares me," she said as she took another harsh drink.

Draco then waited. He waited for her to talk, maybe to bring up another topic, just to be polite because it was of course, Granger. Since she was drunk, she probably would talk anyway just for the sake of talking.

He found that in every single girl he had ever had to interact with socially.

They never shut up.

Three minutes went by.

Three minutes and fourty three seconds.

Four and a half minutes.

Seven minutes.

Eleven minutes.

Twelve minutes.

And on the thirteenth minute, something spectacular happened.

Granger moved from her fazed state, putting down the whisky she had ordered. She spoke.

"Check please," she said, calling the barman over.

She paid for her drink (well in this case, drinks) as he started moving the empty cups in front of her.

The barman smiled, and put the change out on the table.

She slid it back to him, smiling.

_Ever the generous one, Granger, _Draco thought as he looked at the amount of change she had tipped him with.

She turned and smiled at him.

"I'm leaving now, Malfoy," she nodded to him.

He gave her an appraising glance, she was the first female to ever leave his presence first, he would normally take them (unwillingly) home or bring them back to his flat.

"Granger," he said nodding.

As she walked out the door, he watched her back turn and he finished his drink, deciding that maybe there was more to Granger than she let on.

**Part 3: The enemy.**

Hermione had gotten home very safely, thank you very much.

Well, remotely safely. She only could feel a couple of bruises from stop signs she had hit walking home (she couldn't remember how to apparate).

Stumbling among her keys, she finally turned the right key into her. Sliding her shoes off, she saw that her smaller lamp was dimmed on her kitchen table, illuminating a stack of papers with a pen on top.

She hadn't left that there, so she figured it was something from Harry or her assistant.

Sure enough, as she approached the table she could see a scrap piece of paper with a note scribbled in Harry's messy scrawl.

_Hermione, _

_Mary sent this to me, she didn't feel comfortable coming into your house. She said she's sorry to bother you with this, but your boss said you needed to get started on this case, he seems to think it'll redeem you. Here's the papers, I'll be back tomorrow. Write back tonight so I know you're safe._

_Harry_

She smiled at the note before grabbing another piece of parchment and scribbled down a quick "_Thanks, Hermione."_

"Jenks," she called her owl. He flew onto her arm. "I need you to take this to Harry, okay?"

Her brown owl hooted as Hermione tied it onto her foot and took off.

Grabbing the stack of files, she sat down at her table ready to go over the summary.

_Defendant: Roy Andrews_

_Trial Date: TBA_

_Lawyer: Draco Malfoy_

That was where she stopped. She had never faced Malfoy in a case before.

Was that why he was trying to get cozy with her tonight?

She thought back to his words, well he certainly hadn't gotten much information.

But did he try to? Did he know?

It was coincidental…too coincidental.

Her eyes narrowed.

_Stupid Ferret. _

Throwing the papers down onto her table, she stumbled to her bedroom not bothering to change and passed out on her bed, not even below the covers.

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! Keep em' coming. =]**


	3. Overachiever

**A/N: Soo…I've been sitting here all day thinking "I really need to type up Chapter 3," listening to the new Paramore album on repeat. Needless to say, the whole album stunned me to the point where I couldn't do anything but memorize every lyric of every song on the album. Sorry. Blame them by buying it (NOT ILLEGALLY DOWNLOADING IT!) It's worth the money, trust me. :D**

**Without further ado…Chapter 3!**

Part 1: Sneaky little ferret.

"You can't be serious," Hermione groaned into her hands while banging her head repeatedly on the large stack of papers sitting on her kitchen table.

Immediately regretting the decision and fixing her hands on her temple, she decided it was best to steer clear of anything hitting her head this early in the morning because it did not help the throbbing headache she had woken up with.

But of course, with the luck she was striding right now, the name _Draco Malfoy_ was written neatly across the lawyers space.

_Wonderful._

If there were any pros to this situation, it would have to be the fact that she could bury her face in paperwork all day and attempt to rid the memories of the pleading man in court that was now nothing but a empty shell sitting in Azkaban.

The first bundle of paper-clipped papers were just the preliminary documents of the case. Hermione skimmed over the first page quickly.

_Defendant: Roy Andrews_

_Trial Date: TBA_

_Lawyer: Draco Malfoy_

_Prosecution: Hermione Granger_

_Required Present: Full Wizengamont_

_Press: Not allowed to attend. Statements only before/after trial._

_Family of Defendant: Not allowed to attend._

_Cause: Defendant is accused of a strong memory charm on a Muggle for unknown reasons. _

_Evidence: Three pieces of physical evidence (will be sent to prosecution one month prior to trial,) Four pieces of hear-say evidence. Two witnesses. Contact information and evidence will be given one month prior to the trial. _

The last sheets of paper explained the typical rules of the trial and the usual rules of confidentiality along with an enclosed contract for the particular case.

Hovering her wand over the first blank space given on the sheet of parchment, her magical otter appeared, squirming in the enclosed space. The second space was left for Hermione to sign and she did so with such ferocity that it nearly ripped the paper.

Getting ready for the day was a heavy affair without the rambling voice of Fredrick Jacobs reciting the morning news, but she did so anyway in silence contemplating her next step.

Normally, she would sit down and meet with the representation for the defense (which was normally the opposed lawyer), but this time was different.

Hermione had never worked against Draco Malfoy in court (but she had heard stories in the office of course). Yes, Malfoy was a new opponent and he was a sneaky little ferret, and she would do well to remember it.

Grabbing her paperwork and storing it in a folder, she headed off to the office.

* * *

**Part 2: ****Time and place.**

Draco Malfoy enjoyed his morning cup of coffee and Prophet every morning.

Needless to say, when he arrived at work the next morning greeted with a stack of neat papers and Marcus Flint sitting at his desk, he was not a happy man.

"_Flint,_" Draco said in a exasperated tone, "I really don't have time for your childish banter about Granger this morning. I don't give a damn about her."

Flint smirked at him, but didn't say a thing.

"What now?" Draco asked himself picking up the stack as he sipped on his piping hot coffee.

As he looked over the paper, he vaguely heard Flint say something among the lines of still not caring.

Stuck with another idiot, of course. But something stopped him dead in his tracks and he mused his luck looking over the name.

Draco briefly considered the situation.

Granger had failed a case and was headline news. Now _he _was assigned a case with her as a prosecution. She would be out for vengeance to restore her reputation as one of the best lawyers of present time.

_Fucking wonderful._

Flint wore a smug look.

"Your turn, buddy."

Draco's eyes narrowed.

Taking his new assignment and setting his coffee down on his desk he walked over to the backroom.

Mr. Carlton was in deep conversation with another employee of the firm that Draco didn't communicate with.

He glanced up at Draco as he stood leading on the door.

"Malfoy," he said, "What can I do for you today?"

"This case is absurd, Carlton."

"What do you mean, absurd? Dear Mr. Malfoy! I'm giving you a chance of a lifetime! This is your chance to be known, your chance to compete with someone with your skill, surely you don't want to pass up a opportunity like this," Carlton said suggestively.

Draco saw straight through him.

"Granger will be relentless. I am no fool, Roger. She'll destroy me," he admitted darkly.

"Malfoy, you're the best man for the job. And everyone else is busy with other cases anyway," Carlton replied sternly.

The man sitting next to his boss looked like he was going to say something, but decided against it.

"This will be good for you, Malfoy. Good learning."

Draco gave Carlton a pointed glare and stalked off.

Flint was gone from his desk when he returned, so Draco was left to sip on his coffee and determine his next move.

Finally, he decided he would agree to the case. There was an element of truth to Carlton's words and he could get his name out there to public eye as a lawyer.

Grabbing parchment, his quill, and ink, he sat down to scribble a note to Granger so they could set up a meeting.

_Granger__¾_

_We should talk in person. Send me a time and place._

_DM_

After writing the note, he realized there had been a coffee-cup indentation on the note. Too lazy to rewrite it or fix it with magic, he decided to just send it as is. Sending his owl out, he sipped on his coffee and read his _Prophet_.

* * *

**Part 3: Impeccable timing.**

Turning in her paperwork normally wasn't something she over-analyzed.

Ever step she took in the office that day, it felt like all eyes were on her.

Usually, the office was used to seeing _the_ Hermione Granger walk throughout the office with friendly smiles and small-talk. Today, however, Hermione walked with meaning towards her destination throwing the file down on her bosses desk and taking long strides back to her office.

Closing her office door, she waited for Harry to stop by. She knew he would come in to check on her, to see if she was going to have another catastrophic breakdown.

Sure enough, at 8:01 after two swift knocks her best friend walked into the room, opening the door hesitantly.

"Hermione," he gave an outward sigh at the drastic change of appearance since the last time he had seen her. He held two large cups in his hand and he kicked the door behind him shut as he set one down on her desk.

"Thank you, Harry," she smiled the best she could at him. Taking a sip, she quickly realized he had gone to a muggle coffee shop instead of just picking up the usual black coffee he normally did. He obviously had gone to great lengths to please her this morning.

Her smile went a little wider.

"You didn't have to get it, you know. Normal coffee would have done," she said as she sipped on it.

"It's okay, I was in the neighborhood," he grinned at her. "You'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine, Harry. Yesterday was…hard, but this new case is something I'm looking forward to," she smiled at him.

"I couldn't help but notice yesterday…Malfoy…" he trailed off.

"I know, it'll be something to remember, that's for sure," she mused.

Of course, that moment was when a note slid under her door, making floating itself over to her.

Quickly scanning the note, she sighed.

He had impeccable timing.

"It's from him, he wants to meet up," she groaned, "I really don't feel like dealing with Malfoy this early in the morning. Do you have a pepper up? I have a bit of a headache," she said. Well, bit was an understatement, but Harry didn't need to do that.

He laughed and pulled a small vial from his cloak.

"Tell him tomorrow," Harry said.

"No, I would like to, but I need something to occupy my time. Plus, I need to get started."

"You'll always be the overachiever," he chuckled.

"And you'll always be a procrastinator," she smiled half-heartedly at him.

_Some things never change._

"Ah, well, let me know how things go. I'll owl you for lunch, maybe we can meet up with Ron."

Kissing her forehead, he left the room as she scribbled down a reply.

_10AM. The Leaky. We won't be speaking there._

_Hermione Granger_

Sending her owl off to Draco Malfoy, she sighed and went to ask Mary for the public transcripts of the past five cases that Malfoy had been assigned.

* * *

**Part 4: The work of a workaholic.**

Granger had replied very quickly, he noted.

What surprised him even more was that she wanted to meet up with him today, he had expected maybe sometime later in the week, or perhaps Friday after work, but he wouldn't complain. He would exchange two hours of break from all that ruddy paperwork, even if he had to spend it with Granger.

Giving notice to his boss (and dumping the heavy stack of papers on Flint's desk as he walked by), he sat down to go through the errors he had made in the last trial.

He needed to get better with public speaking, that was for sure. Grabbing a sheet of parchment, he started writing.

_Goals_

_-Faster answers._

_-Not be known as 'the-ferret-who-lost' after this case is over._

_-Study Granger and her strengths. Find weaknesses._

_-Speak with Andrews. Determine if he's guilty or not and why he oblivated that muggle._

_-Evaluate evidence thoroughly. _

_-Survive Grangers' wrath with my pride in tact._

Draco frowned down at his paper.

That had to be the most negative goals list he had ever created. He angrily bunched up the parchment and threw it under his desk and tried again.

_Goals_

_-Answer quicker than the last case. The courtroom is not a time to muse my thoughts._

_-Remember that I have a reputation to uphold._

_-Not get turned into a ferret (again)._

_-Speak with Andrews. Determine if he's guilty or not._

_-Figure out why he oblivated that muggle, and why he's trying to hide it._

_-Inspect evidence. Try to eliminate at least three parts._

_-Survive._

It was still a pretty depressing list, but Draco concluded that it was better than the previous and set the sheet in a brand new folder that was labeled 'ROY ANDREWS'.

He figured he should probably study some of the cases Granger had been assigned, so went to the archives collection and searched.

It wasn't hard to find her file, it was by far, the largest.

Extra papers were scattered throughout the files, and taking a better look at a few of them, he noticed most were labeled with colorful pieces of thin paper he had never seen in his life with messy scribbling. Notes, of course. Extra notes.

_What a workaholic_, Draco thought as he ran through the detailed notes.

He figured she didn't have much of a social life.

Grabbing a few of the grouped files, he hurried to get out of the room before he sneezed from all the dust.

The sad thing about the situation was, Draco knew he would have to become just as much of a workaholic if he wanted to even _compete_ with Granger.

_This is going to be fun_, Draco thought cynically.

* * *

**A/N: The more you review, the faster I update. And the better I feel about myself, but that's beside the point. Thank you, everyone. :]  
**


	4. Taking Notes

**Part 1: Behind closed doors.**

_9:55AM_

"Mary, I am going out for a meeting with Draco Malfoy. I will be back before lunch, and if by chance I am not, please invite Harry and Ron into my office," Hermione said to her assistant who nodded and merely went back to paperwork.

"Oh, and Mary, I need recent documents of his workings," she added to her. "Just pick a few of the thicker ones."

"It wont be a problem, Hermione," Mary smiled at her.

Mary bit her lip, hesitating before letting her thoughts known.

"You are okay, aren't you? The Inkwell case is something no one anticipated. It isn't your fault, you know," Mary reassured her.

"I know, I'm just taking it all differently. There's a first time for everything, I suppose…" Hermione trailed off. She tried not to sound like she was too bugged about it, but those who knew Hermione Granger knew that it was in fact something that would leave her to drown in guilt behind closed doors.

Mary sent her a smile that didn't quite touch the right places in her face to be considered genuine.

"Goodbye, Mary," Hermione nodded at her assistant as before disapperating away to The Leaky Cauldron.

She had appeared a block away from the small bar. A translucent file was held in her arms with a muggle pen and yellow notebook on top as she strolled the street casually towards her destination.

Finally reaching the bar, she walked in and took a seat at one of the tables near the exit to wait for him.

He walked in a mere twenty seconds after she had sat down and adjusted herself in her seat.

Draco was wearing the usual crisp, white button-up shirt with a couple undone at the top accompanied with a pair of straight black slacks.

He gave her a curt nod and she got up and left the shop with him trailing after her.

They walked in silence in long, measured strides. From another perspective, it may have even looked as if he was stalking her because she seemed to take no notice of him.

Turn after turn he followed her through Muggle London until she finally took an unexpected turn into a small, unnoticeable shop. It looked muggle.

She sat down on one of the bigger tables that would probably have suited four, but set her paperwork down on the table area, as did Draco as he sat down sliding perfectly into the seat.

A waitress approached them.

"My name is Kara, and I will be your server today. Can I get you anything?" The girl speaking looked young, maybe twenty or so.

Draco glanced up at the waitress from the paperwork he had set out and then gave Hermione a pointed look.

"I'll take a coffee," Hermione said to the waitress as she jotted it down on her pad.

"Same for me," Draco drawled as he got back to his notes.

"I'll be right back with that," she said and then walked away.

Hermione sighed and took a couple creamers and sugar from the center of the table.

Having a cup of coffee with Draco Malfoy. I never thought I'd see the day, Hermione mused in her head.

The waitress returned then, with two scalding cups of coffee and leaving without a word.

She noticed Draco put a minor cooling charm on his and took a sip. He made a disgusted face.

"Malfoy," Hermione started and emptied her condiments into her drink, "Lets get straight to it, shall we?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say, Granger."

She looked down at her watch.

_10:23AM._

This was going to be a very long afternoon.

**Part 2: Why**

Draco looked at her questioningly.

He didn't know if he should be the one to break the awkward silence as she took another sip of her coffee.

Finally she seemed annoyed enough to speak and broke the tension.

"Have you spoken with Andrews yet?"

"No," he said with a bit of an annoyed tone, "I only got this case this morning, Granger. I've barely even skimmed through the hear-say evidence," he said.

She looked surprised.

"But you didn't…" she trailed off.

He didn't know what she was talking about.

"Didn't what, Granger?" he pressed.

"Never mind, forget it."

His eyes narrowed and then he shrugged his shoulders. He would think about that later.

"Do you expect him to plead guilty?" Hermione asked.

Well, that was a little blunt, Draco thought. Normally the prosecution would try some small talk first, trying to weasel out the lawyers initial opinion on the case.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know, Granger. As I pointed out, I haven't even _spoke_ with him yet," he retorted in a cool voice.

"I am merely asking your professional opinion as an outsider, Malfoy," she bit back.

"Yes, however, we both know that we are not outsiders in this," he said in all honesty.

She didn't reply, but instead took another sip on her coffee.

He smirked, and tried to hide it. He hadn't shown her a weakness.

She scribbled something down in her notepad with an object Draco recognized as a muggle pen. He hadn't seen many witches use a pen for choice, but he figured it had to do with being born into the muggle world.

Frankly, he didn't understand the damned object himself. What the hell was the point in clicking down on the stupid top?

He rose a brow at her.

She scribbled something else down and frowned to the paper.

Though, Draco did have to admit it would be nice not to have to dip a stupid feather into an ink bottle every sentence.

He cleared his throat, remembering it was no time to dwell on muggle items.

"So, Granger," he started cautiously, "you've probably read the case four or five times over by now, what do you think?"

She set her pen down and sighed, rubbing her finger in circles around the brim of her cup.

"It seems suspicious to obliviate a muggle for no known reason," she said fairly, careful with her words.

He nodded in thought.

A pregnant pause hung over them and just to avoid the awkwardness, he took another sip of his coffee.

Draco thought it'd be best to get inside her head, learn a little about Hermione Granger, the person. At all seven years at school, he barely knew anything about Granger, except the obvious. She was Potter's best friend and sidekick, the brightest witch that had entered Hogwarts in some time, and also the given characteristics she had to have being a bloody Gryffindor. All he really knew back then was she was a true contradiction to everything he had ever been taught, and that used to irritate him to no end. Being beat by a bloody _muggleborn._

Potter, he could handle beating him, somewhat. He was at least a half-blood, and his fathers side was one of the oldest and respected magical family, much like Draco himself. Sure, he didn't like Potter at all, that much was obvious. But back in his teenage years, he had been drilled with information that blood was _everything_ to someone. Your heritage made who you were, and damnit, he was Draco Malfoy.

But of course, then Granger had to show up and ruin everything he believed in after she beat him time after time. Every test, every assignment, every potion, and every bloody _thing_ she did, she did better. She had no magical heritage, and still managed to be one of the most respected witches of the age.

Of course, Draco knew now that what had been engraved into his pretty little head had all been pish-posh.

"Why are you a prosecutor, Granger?"

She looked at him then, a little muddled.

"Because I want to do good to the world, Malfoy," she said as if the answer was highly obvious.

He rolled his eyes again.

"I know _that,_ Granger," he said impatiently, "but why?"

She looked annoyed.

"What do you mean _why_, Malfoy?"

"I mean, you could have done anything you wanted. You're the brightest witch of our generation, not to mention one of the most famous people of the Wizarding world. Why do something like prosecution?" he asked in all honesty. He didn't like the fact that he had complimented her outright, with no ifs, ands, or buts. And to be honest, he wished he hadn't.

She looked a little stunned.

She thought over his words, "I believe in honesty, and after the war, there wasn't much of it."

He sighed, exasperated. She still wasn't getting it.

"Granger, we're wizards and witches with wands. There are things like Veritaserum for that," he said.

"Veritaserum isn't accurate, it can't always be used. There are many difficulties, and it can't prove someone right or wrong in court," she argued.

"You're right…it can't. And it can be resisted, but there are many other interrogation methods, Granger," he pointed out.

"Legilimency isn't reliable either. To avoid Veritaserum and Legilimency, all you would need to learn is Occlumency," she said.

She scribbled a few more words down hurriedly.

"Yes, but there's also the pensive," he smirked at her.

She sighed, displeased and rolled her eyes.

"Memories can be tampered with, Malfoy," she smiled.

"There is always evidence of such things," he said.

"True," she agreed.

He was surprised then, because she had actually agreed with him on something.

"So, if we agree that the truth can be found _without_ you, then why is it you waste your talent?"

He was getting a kick out of this.

She flushed a little.

She didn't know why, but she figured she'd be honest with him.

"Well…Harry has always been the one to take care of the physical aspect of taking the criminal down, that's why he's the Auror. Ron has always been his…wing man, I guess you could call him," she said.

She clearly didn't like referring to Weasel as a wing man, but Draco figured it was honest at least.

"Funny, Granger. I got the impression third year you had no problem with getting physical," he said smirking.

She smiled remembering. "Yes, well, I don't have a problem with dueling or defending myself and what I think is right."

"But you think justice is right, so why aren't you an Auror?" he questioned.

Her smile faltered.

"Well…Ron always said I was best at research…and prosecution requires research…so I thought I'd stick to what I was best at," she said trying to sound strong.

Ah, so it was Weasley who had proposed her to do something that required books and notes.

"You let _Weasley_ affect your career, Granger?" He sneered at her.

She looked taken aback at his change in mood.

"We were dating at the time," she clarified.

He noticed the use of her past tense.

His sneer turned into a look of pure disgust.

"You let someone you were _dating_ affect your career, then," he said, "well, that's just _much_ better."

Her look turned defensive and her eyes narrowed.

"Ron has been my friend for years, Malfoy."

Draco decided a row in the middle of a coffee shop probably wouldn't be best, so he shut up.

In his pause, he seemed to sense Granger wanted to say something, and sure enough she cleared her throat.

"They didn't want me on the field, Malfoy," she said truthfully, finally.

He looked up and glanced at all the papers scattered on her desk. "So you settled for this?"

She sighed yet again.

"I didn't _settle_ for anything, Malfoy. I love my job," she clarified.

Draco merely nodded, but if he would have had his own pen and notepad, he thought he would have written that down.

* * *

**A/N: I wasn't all too happy with the outcome of this chapter, to be honest. Something came up and I was wrong about a piece of my information, so I kind of had to wing this part instead of go by my outline. It's a little bit shorter than my usual chapter. Anyway, I hope you liked it. I don't have school all next week, so I'll try to update a couple more times between today and this week. Please leave reviews, the smallest things make my day! Any type of input is welcomed and cherished.**


	5. Jealous Hearts

**Hmm...well, document manager wasn't letting me update last night, and now it is. Sorry for the wait!

* * *

**

**Part 1: Jealous hearts will leave us all in ruins.**

The meeting with Malfoy had gone…different than she had expected.

See, Hermione Granger had spent her teenage years with two male best friends. She learned to study them and predict their actions.

Of course, it hadn't been easy at first and she had been wrong a couple of times, but it wasn't long before she had perfected the studies and habits of the male sex.

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley were two, perfectly predictable people.

She couldn't take her notes on him in his presence, he always kept her on her feet intellectually and always had a biting or witty remark to send back her way.

Needless to say, Hermione rarely had time to comprehend her thoughts when she was speaking with him.

She looked over her quickly-jotted notes that she had been able to take on Malfoy while he interrogated her.

_Notes:_

_-Unwilling to give opinions to me._

_-Doesn't like the fact that I take notes._

_-Expects me to give my personal opinion._

_-Prefers Magical Interrogation Methods_

_-Complimented me. (??)_

_-Anger about influence on my career._

Looking back at her notes, she realized that there was no actual information about the case that she had gotten. No hard evidence. One meeting had already gotten done, and nothing had actually been accomplished but learning a few things about Malfoy.

She quickly scolded herself and her stupidity in the small coffee shop for giving out so much information about herself.

_This is Malfoy, Hermione. You have to be on your feet and keep defences up, _she chastised herself.

So after the awkward silence that had presented itself after their almost-row, Draco had finished his cup of coffee in another hurried drink, and paid for their tab, telling her he would send another note when he heard any information or wanted to speak with her again.

Draco did not invite her to send him an owl if she wanted to speak.

Sighing, she organized the files on her desk before walking out to find Mary. It wasn't a hard task, Mary sat in the same spot she had been sitting in before Hermione had left.

"Here are seven of his most recent cases," Mary said as she handed Hermione a stack of thick paperwork separated by folders, "the eighth is a case that got a lot of public attention about a year ago, he wound up winning that one."

Hermione smiled gratefully at her as she attempted to balance herself with the weight. Needless to say, she stumbled and the files scattered on the floor.

Sighing, Hermione bent down to pick them up.

"Are you a witch or not?" Hermione heard a familiar, mocking voice behind her.

The papers flew into another orderly stack and zoomed towards Hermione's office door.

When Hermione turned around, Harry was putting his wand away and grinning at her.

She returned his smile and took the hand that Harry offered her.

"Thanks," she smiled at him as she led the way to her office.

Harry took the seat across her desk, closing the door behind him as she took her usual seat.

"How was the meeting with Malfoy?" Harry asked cautiously.

"He's absolutely infuriating, Harry," she groaned as she relaxed into her seat.

He chuckled at her.

"It's Malfoy, Hermione, what the hell were you expecting?"

"Anyway…he wouldn't answer my questions with straight answers. I couldn't get a damn thing out of him except another meeting," she said as she handed him her unusually short list of notes, clearly irritated.

Harry looked them over with a look of distaste.

"Never in my years would I think I would be reading notes on Draco Malfoy," he laughed ruefully.

"I dunno, sixth year you were so obsessed with him I think you would have taken notes on him in History of Magic, given the chance," she snickered at him.

He threw her a scathing look.

A comfortable silence came upon them as they waited for the third member of their trio.

"So…Ron's coming…" Harry trailed off as he looked at Hermione with a parental sort of look.

"Don't you throw that look at me, Harry Potter," she said to him.

"Hermione, I know you guys haven't talked much recently, and it really tears me up to see you guys drift apart after all we've been through," Harry said uncomfortably. He never was very good at discussing his feelings.

"Don't say it as if it's _my_ fault, Harry. You know full well that what happens in my _relationship_ with Ronald is not a one-way street," she said. She was a little irritated at Harry for all of the years he had sided with Ron against her in situations she had no control or input in.

Harry defended himself quickly, "I know Hermione, you just have to give him a chance. He's a bit of a…" Harry deliberated trying to find the right word, "Well…quite honestly, he's a bit of a git when it comes to you."

"Yes, Harry," Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Because we all know what happens next, right? I converse with co-workers, or receive a note from one of my male friends, and he goes bloody bonkers and warms up with the nearest female that will have him," she spat out.

"Now that's not true Hermione," Harry said reproachfully.

"Oh you know very well that I speak nothing but the truth," she retorted before Harry could go any further. "It happened every time, Harry. Every single time. He didn't trust me with anyone, hell he even got angry once when it was _you,_ Harry, and you're his best friend, the three of us have been through everything together, and he still chooses not to trust the _both of us_."

Hermione knew it was wrong to involve Harry in her deteriorating relationship with Ron, but it seemed that Harry had never actually understood the level of jealousy that was inebriated into that thick skull.

Harry (being the smart, wanting-to-keep-his-arse-in-the-same-week type of bloke,) decided it would be best if he did not press the subject any further than he had to. Hermione's temper was rising and Harry knew that it was nothing to be meddled with, especially before a lunch date between the three of them.

Harry seemed to drop the point until he said one more thing.

"He loves you, he always has."

She sent him a dispassionate look.

"Funny, you'd think he would be the one telling me that."

**Part 2: There's no need to apologize, I've got no time for feeling sorry.  
**

It was another four minutes and forty three seconds until Ron showed up.

The room was filled with an awkward tension as soon as he stepped foot into the room.

"Harry!" Ron greeted, shaking his hand with a grin on his face.

Harry smiled at him, and Hermione supposed it was because it was easier to pretend this way.

He gave Hermione a weak smile and walked over to kiss her on the cheek.

She didn't discourage him, but she had to admit it was a little bit off seeing as the last time she had seen him he was positively fuming at all ends, spluttering over his words in a heated rage.

"So," Ron said a little bit out of breath, "Are we ready to go?"

He had the same jubilant smile that Ron had always had when he was surround by those he loved and cared about. It made it that much harder for Hermione to keep her angry temper, and she found herself having arguments with herself throughout the short lunch.

The awkwardness faded as the three old friends sat together at a unknown muggle restaurant, with Hermione on one side and the two of them squashed together on the other side.

She was careful never to ask any questions to Ron, who didn't necessarily ignore her, but put in a few words into the conversation sporting a weak smile.

Coincidentally, when Hermione had gotten a refill on her coffee, Harry remembered he had a meeting with the Minister which left Hermione and Ron to an awkward cup of coffee together.

But as Harry left, Hermione would have sworn to see him send a reassuring look to Ron.

The door closed shut clamorously and Ron smiled at her.

"So, how has work been?" he asked her, starting simple.

Her eyes narrowed at him.

He seemed to remember his mistake as he rethought his words as a look of comprehension came over his face, and a slight blush appeared.

"Oh…right," he mumbled.

She would have laughed, but she decided against it.

"Umm…so other than that…how have you been?" Ron asked awkwardly.

"Er…good," she replied as she sipped on her coffee.

Ron sighed.

"Listen, Hermione…about the last time we spoke," he looked at her, hesitating, "I didn't mean half the stuff I said, you know how I can get sometimes. When I'm upset, I say things I don't mean, and half the time I don't even know what the hell I'm saying and I just can't stop because I'm stubborn and you're stubborn and…and…and…" he seemed to lose his train of thought. Taking a deep breath, "Hermione, I'm sorry I was a git."

She looked at him then, truly looked at him. She wished she could see through his flesh, into that pea-brain of his and see everything that made him Ron Weasley. Her best friend, and…?

His eyes lost their energy as he took in the way she was scrutinizing him.

She sighed, feeling a little guilty. She covered his hand with her own as his eyes left the table and sunk to his cup of coffee.

"Ron, I can't do this every three months. I can't have our lines any more blurred than they already are. Every time things are looking up for us, something happens to tear us apart. And it's not people that do it, it's the both of us," she gestured to him, "There is no conspiracy against us, and we can't blame others for our mistakes because we've been ruining our chances for years now together."

She took a deep breath as she watched him try to comprehend the words she was saying.

"Hermione, I know we fight a lot. And I know you deserve better than me, but I promise that I love you with everything I am. Please, give me another chance, I'll do whatever it takes," he said desperately, grasping at her hand.

She was annoyed with him again and slid her fingers out from his.

She gave him an exasperated look.

"You're not even listening to what I'm saying, Ron It's not just you, and it's not just me! It's both of us, together. You can't just fix things like nothing and pretend nothing happened, we can't run from our problems," she snapped.

He only seemed to understand the tone of her voice.

His face dropped from the passion it held and turned into a mixture of anger and pain. "Right…I understand…I wont bother you anymore," he said stood up throwing down a few coins to pay for his drink and walked out.

"Ron," she called after him. He simply ignored her.

Why was it he was always the one walking out?

**Part 3: I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired.**

Relieved that the awkward meeting with Ron was finally over, she strolled back to her office.

Relieved, at least, until she was reminded of the stack of files she had to study on Draco Malfoy.

Sitting down at her desk, she pulled out her flagrant muggle highlighter and started to highlight key facts on the defense for his case with the Robinsons.

Two hours later, she stretched her legs and glanced at the clock. There was only another hour left of work, so she decided on taking a break and going to check up on her assistant.

"You received three owls from Mr. Malfoy," she told her before Hermione asked the question.

She rolled her eyes, wondering what the ferret could possibly want now.

Remembering the sexual reference he had made the night at the bar, she shuddered trying not to think what he _could_ want, but more what he could _realistically_ want.

But before she could even glance at the paper, she heard a loud crash and a distinctive "_Ouch!_"

Walking into the office lobby, she saw Draco dusting his black slacks off with his hand and as if he were about to sneeze.

He didn't, however, and when he set his eyes upon her his eyes narrowed.

"You haven't answered me, Granger," he drawled.

"I wasn't aware you wanted to speak with me until thirty seconds ago, Malfoy," she rolled her eyes at him and led the way to her office as she left Mary at her reception desk.

Draco followed her to her office and closed the door. He looked around approvingly at the office (which Hermione didn't miss) and seemed to hesitate before speaking.

"Did you speak to Andrews?"

She looked taken aback.

"No, I don't usually speak with the defendant," she said. "Why?"

He looked like he was deep in thought.

"He wont speak to me," Draco said bitterly.

She took a seat down at her desk and gestured for Draco to sit in the other, but he just stood there.

Hermione's brow furrowed in concentration as questions popped through her head.

_That is definitely suspicious, _Hermione thought.

Draco, however, seemed to realize his mistake of giving away this piece of information. He had been convinced Granger had somehow _already_ held something against Andrews so the bloke was afraid to speak.

"Hmm…." Hermione said aloud, not being able to restrain her curiosity to herself.

Draco merely shrugged and tried to play it off as nothing.

He glanced down at her scattered notes on him and she blushed.

"What the hell is that?" He asked, gesturing to the bright pen that was sprawled on the desk.

"Muggle highlighter," she said nonchalantly.

He rolled his eyes at her.

"A glowing charm would do the same thing," he said.

"True, but I catch more information if I read it all the way through," she smiled at him.

"Right…well aside from that," he said clearing his throat, "I need to set up another meeting with you, Granger. Tomorrow, perhaps. After you're finished with work, maybe we could go out for a drink, my treat," he grinned at her.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're not getting me drunk, Malfoy."

Getting drunk could lead to giving out her best tactics in the courtroom, there was no way in hell she would be going out to have a drink with him after being assigned in a case against him.

"Fine," he snapped, "Coffee then, after work?"

She nodded at him.

"The Leaky. Four thirty. Don't be late," and he walked swiftly out the door.

As he left, however, Harry walked in sneering at Malfoy.

Once the footsteps of Draco Malfoy had disappeared, Harry's expression changed from one of pure loathing to one of eagerness.

_Men, _Hermione thought.

"So, how'd it go with Ron?"

Hermione simply groaned into her hands.

When it rains, it pours.

**A/N: AHH! Sorry it took a couple more days than normal. Anyway, I hope to make my chapters longer later on. I'm just trying to get these out as fast as I can at the time being. Normally when I write I finish up a section late at night and just want it out so I can wake up to all of your lovely reviews. Anyway, they'll get longer as I continue throughout this story. Hope you like this chapter, there wasn't much Malfoy in it, but all the boring filler stuff you're learning now is going to become important later. And I promise to explain the past a little better in future chapters. Read & Review please! Thanks! By the way, it's 1AM and I really can't edit right now, so if you catch any errors I'll find them tomorrow when I'm coherent. :P **


	6. Ignorance

**A/N: I just realized, I've never put a disclaimer on this story yet. I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER AT ALL. Please, don't sue me. D: **

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**Oh, and I also don't own the songs **_**Careful**_** and **_**Ignorance **_**by Paramore, which the part titles came from. **

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**Part 1: The truth never set me free so I did it myself.**

Hermione glanced at her watch again.

_4:18_.

She took another glance at the door, but no such luck. Though she knew she would see his platinum blonde hair stick out anywhere and catch him coming in through the window though her peripheral vision, but she still had snuck glances at the door ever since arriving at the small coffee shop, precisely at 4:10 in the afternoon.

He was three minutes late so far.

He had picked the place this time, and it seemed that he had chosen to go to another small coffee shop that was noticeably muggle.

Sighing, she reached down into her bookcase and felt for the spine of her current book. He would probably take a little while.

But as she looked up after finally locating her book, he was pulling the chair across hers out.

She glanced back down at her watch, an action that did not go unnoticed by him.

"Granger, I'm five minutes late. Give me a break," he said to her, exasperated.

She smiled but didn't reply.

"Has Andrews said anything to you yet?" she asked.

"Gee, Granger. Don't be in such a hurry, one would think you don't enjoy my company," he said dripping with sarcasm.

"Fine," she huffed, "How was your day, _Draco_?"

He sniggered, but his face quickly changed to a frown.

"Horrible, actually."

She looked thoughtful. "Elaborate, if you will."

"Just work stuff."

There was a brief pause, and Draco looked like he was struggling with something.

"I suppose this is the part where I'm supposed to ask how yours went?"

"Perhaps, if you'd like to continue with the small-talk," she laughed.

He didn't say anything for a few seconds. "How was yours, then?"

"Horrible."

He laughed.

"I knew we should have gone for drinks, instead."

She rolled her eyes and he followed with a scowl.

"I'm just kidding Granger, calm down. I don't want to bed you or anything," he laughed.

"That's not what you said a couple of nights ago," she pointed out. She let the words slip out of her mouth before she spoke, something she rarely did.

He smirked at her.

"All this talk about sex, Granger. You'd think you wanted it," he sniggered.

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy. You're the one who brought it up."

He continued to smirk at her, until she decided she would get herself a cup of coffee just to get out of the stupid prats presence for a few seconds.

"Where are you going, Granger? We're not finished yet," his eyes narrowed at her.

"Just to get coffee, Malfoy," she assured him. "Don't be so possessive, one would think you _like_ my company," she said as she walked away.

Ordering took longer than anticipated because of the wait on the coffee. She had decided to wait near the counter so she wouldn't have to get back up, seeing as the place didn't have any waitresses.

She noticed him get up and approach the counter.

"What can I get for you today?" the woman behind the counter asked.

"I'll have a coffee and a blueberry muffin," he said.

After paying he walked over to Hermione and stood next to her with arms crossed.

They waited together for their orders to be ready. Hermione's was done first, of course, but only a couple of seconds before his. But because she took the time to put in a few condiments, he was already back at the table before she was.

She drank slowly from her sweet-tasting coffee as he nibbled from his muffin and took deep drinks from the mouth-scalding drink.

She noticed as he ate, he didn't take direct bites from the food, but instead broke parts off and shoved it into his mouth, whereas Ron and Harry just took enormous bites from their food and some escaped dribbled down their chin.

_Well of course Malfoy would have better manners than Ron and Harry…_Hermione thought as she studied him.

Suddenly, he interrupted her thought process.

"Are you going to stare at me all day, or are we going to speak?"

She sighed again.

"You never answered my first question," she accused.

He simply took another drink.

"I tried to speak to Andrews today, he still wont meet with me, I don't know why. I have set up another meeting tomorrow," he said frowning.

"Odd," Hermione said as she took her notebook and pen out and scribbled down the words.

She glanced up to see an annoyed look take over his features. "Granger, will you put that damn notebook away?" he snapped.

"No, Malfoy. I will _not_," she retorted.

"It's hard to speak with a person when you feel like you're teaching a class, Granger. Put the damn pen down and talk, for once in your life do one thing at a time," he said with a bored voice.

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry, Malfoy," she bit back, "I forgot that some people have never learned to multitask. It must be hard for you to watch others do it. Tell me, do you have to think hard when you walk and breathe at the same time? I've always wanted to know," she asked dryly.

Suddenly, his eyes became a darker shade of grey.

"Damnit, Granger! Why do you have to make everything so difficult? Just trying to have a civilized_, normal_ conversation is hard enough with you. We'll never get anywhere with this because you're too fucking immature to speak with," he spat at her, fuming.

"Immature? _I'm_ immature, Malfoy? Really? Sorry, but who was it again that used to throw petty insults just because of my blood status? Who was it, Malfoy?" she sneered at him, getting angrier at the second. She had her hand in her pocket, ready for a duel, temporarily forgetting that this was a muggle shop.

The few people around the coffee shop looked up from their various distractions to Hermione and Draco, sitting across the small table both notably distressed.

His voice was low and cold, "We both know that was me. I'm not an idiot, I know I was stupid and immature, but I grew up and moved past my prejudice. I think the real question here is, have you, Granger? You claim to be so mature, and I used to think you were intelligent. The rest of the world hasn't moved on from my wrongdoings when I was a boy, but I thought you of all people may understand that just maybe, I've changed. That I've seen loss, that I've felt it like any other person that went through the war, and that I would take it all back if I could."

He grabbed his paperwork, coffee, and the last half of his blueberry muffin and stomped out the door.

And yes, people were still walking out on Hermione Granger.

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**Part 2: Ignorance is your new best friend.**

She crumpled up the seventh sheet of parchment and threw it into the corner of her living room.

"_Fuck_," she muttered to herself as she ripped another sheet out from her notebook.

She started again.

_Mr. Walling,_

_I'd like to ask permission to visit Roy Andrews. Today, if possible. Please write back as soon as possible. I know it's late, sorry. _

_-Hermione Granger._

Finally satisfied with finishing her note without a single rip or tear, she sent the note off to Bobby Walling, a person whom Hermione was well acquainted with. Bobby was one of the guards at Azkaban that set up visits from lawyers and a lot of legal business. He was a good person to have connections with.

Sure enough, ten minutes later a note flew through her door (delivered from her owl) and landed on her desk, saying she could be there in fifteen minutes.

As she prepared for her visit, she looked over her notes again, wondering why Andrews would speak to her and not Draco.

She shrugged, not wanting to think about Draco and the row they had half an hour previous.

The truth was, his words had echoed over and over in her mind and she was left to think about what he had said.

Not just think, however, but obsess over. Pick over each and every word and inspect it, looking back as far as her days at school to her present day as one of the most respected lawyers in the Wizarding World.

_You claim to be so mature, and I used to think you were intelligent. The rest of the world hasn't moved on from my wrongdoings when I was a boy, but I thought you of all people may understand that just maybe, I've changed…_

She sighed, gathering her things.

Grabbing a handful of floo powder and walking into her fireplace, she shouted for Azkaban Landing and disappeared.

"Ms. Granger," Bobby greeted her with a kiss on her hand.

Bobby was a fair man in his early 30's. Tousled brown hair and stood at a tall 6'5". Quite intimidating, if he wanted to be. He was handsome, she supposed, but she didn't take much notice because he had always been much too forward with her, or any woman for that matter.

"Bobby," she struggled to smile at him after the big fight she had just encountered.

"He's already in there," he jerked his head to the interview room.

"Thank you."

She walked into the cold and dimly lit room to meet with a skinny, frail looking man. He was probably in his 40's or so.

"Ms. Granger, pleasure," he said eagerly to her.

She looked at him a bit funny.

"So, you're here to get me out of this hell hole right?" He smiled at her, with relief etched on his face.

She cleared her throat.

"Mr. Andrews, are you not aware that I am your _prosecutor_?"

His face went blank.

"No, that's Draco Malfoy," he said, a little befuddled.

"Draco Malfoy is your defense, Mr. Andrews. I do not work for defense." She stated calmly.

"But…but they said my defense was going to come meet with me…" the man trailed off, confused.

"He tried," she said, blankly, "you wouldn't let him."

"I…I thought he was prosecution…" his face went from blank to horror struck in a split second.

"_Draco Malfoy _is defending me?"

"That is correct, Mr. Andrews."

"WHO THE HELL HIRED HIM?" he screamed at her, pointing an accusing finger at her that was entwined with magical bonds.

"I do not know that information, Mr. Andrews. If you would please calm down," Hermione said, putting her hand on her wand, just in case.

"Someone decided to hire a Death Eater's fucking son for my defense," he growled at her, clearly trying to make a point.

It was funny how the words Roy Andrews said brought back the same words that Draco had told her in the enclosed coffee shop.

_The rest of the world hasn't moved on from my wrongdoings when I was a boy_, he had said to her.

"And there is nothing I can do to change that."

It was funny, but because of Malfoy's words earlier in the shop, she felt a strong urge to scream at Andrews, scream at him for being so bloody ignorant.

Or maybe it was just her ignorance that made her want to scream at herself.

She stood up, not wanting to ask the questions she had initially came here to answer.

_Well, at least he answered one_, she mused. Why he wouldn't speak to Draco.

Hermione was completely lost in her thoughts, she didn't even notice going home and falling back into her bed.

However, she did notice the words echoing inside her head before she fell asleep.

_Someone decided to hire a Death Eater's fucking son for my defense._

_We'll never get anywhere with this because you're too fucking immature to speak with._

_I used to think you were intelligent.

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**A/N: Bleck. Sorry this took a while, I'll try to get them out faster, but with school and Senior year it really is hard! Anyway, the more reviews I get the more motivation it is for me to update. Even if it's a few words or criticism I really do like that you guys can take the time to review! And now, I must flee because it is 3AM and I have to wake up…well, in an hour and forty-five minutes so I can go to the beach in the morning with a bunch of friends. Thank you! Until next time…**


	7. Overanalyzer

DISCLAIMER: I still can't afford a lawsuit, and I still don't own Harry Potter. What a sad, sad, world.

A/N: I know, I know, it took a while. I apologize!

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**Part 1: I'll swallow the words that I was meant to say.**

She was sitting in a pub, again.

In fact, it was the very same pub she had ran into Draco Malfoy a few nights previous.

The same barman was working, currently wiping the table off with a old, haggard rag.

The small bar wasn't very busy tonight, and Hermione was one of three customers at the pub.

She took another long drink from her tall mug.

Hermione's forehead creased, then. She started to think about all of the eventful happenings of her life in the past week or so. Between the Inkwell case, Draco _bloody_ Malfoy (and the new case that accompanied him), and Ron, she didn't know how her life had turned to havoc so quickly.

She started on Ron, and a way to solve that dangerous problem that was slowly escalating into something that might never heal if nothing was done, and soon.

Hermione had known for a long time that their relationship was coming to an end. She loved Ron, she really did. Ron was her best friend for years now, they had been through the thick and thin together, but they just didn't _fit_ together like other couples seemed to, like Harry and Ginny. In the late stages of their relationship, Hermione played with the thought that it was just the jealousy that Ron had always held with anyone. For instance, when he was jealous of Harry during fourth year.

So he left, walking out of that door that was their home.

She remembered the last words they had exchanged before he walked out, and how it all started out.

"_Where were you?" Ron asked, looking up from the couch toe the front door that Hermione was now closing._

_Hermione sighed, clearly exhausted and set down the five books she had balanced in one hand and a thick, tan-colored folder._

"_Work. I just got a huge case assigned to me, the Inkwells. Anyway, I was doing some family research at the Ministry's library. Harry helped me find a couple books," she said, walking into the large kitchen._

_She thought she heard Ron mutter something, but it wasn't loud enough for her to hear from that distance._

_Three medium-sized cartons were spread on the kitchen counter and Hermione peeked into one before she heard Ron's approaching steps._

"_I got take out so you wouldn't need to cook tonight," Ron said as he leaned against the expensive door frame._

"_Thanks," she smiled gratefully at him and grabbed a fork, not bothering to find a plate and eating from the box as she sat down on the kitchen table._

"_You've been home late a lot," he commented as she ate._

"_I know, and I'm sorry. This promotion means a lot to me, and I think I'm very close to getting it." She grinned._

_He didn't smile at the comment._

_Hermione continued to eat, as she hadn't had a bite to eat all day._

"_Marry me." Ron said bluntly._

_Hermione choked on her food._

"_What?" She asked, hoping she hadn't heard what she thought she heard._

"_Marry me, Hermione," Ron said, looking at her with eager eyes as kneeled on one knee in front of her and opened a small white box he had apparently been holding in his pocket._

"_I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."_

_Inside the box was a gold ring with five ruby-red flagrant jewels that looked like they would stand out in the midst of a crowd. _

_The feeling that overcame her was unexpected, though she had a feeling this was coming for the past six months or so. It was a feeling of unease, of confusion._

_Did she want to marry him?_

_So Hermione did the one thing that any know-it-all would._

"_Why?" she asked blankly._

_He looked dumbfounded._

"_We've been together for four years, Hermione. Ginny and Harry are close to getting married, I know it. Let's just…let's just get married. I love you, and you love me. Why not?" he shrugged._

_He remained on one knee as she pondered her thoughts._

_Did she want to marry Ron?_

_It was always the logical step, the one that was coming. They had discussed marriage and kids earlier in their relationship, but she had never thought it would happen this soon. People had always expected Hermione to marry into the Weasley family, everyone did. She was already family in most ways, everyone was just waiting for the final, legalized moment._

_No one, not even Ron was more surprised than Hermione when a soft, "I can't," escaped her lips._

_The first expression that came upon Ron's freckled face was hurt; undeniable and unrestrained hurt._

_His left knee fell to accompany his right, to make Ron on both of his knees. The blank thud that echoed through the room gave enough time for Hermione to know that it was over. She knew Ron Weasley and his reactions._

_Something briefly flickered on his face, was it understanding? Then it quickly changed to an expression that couldn't be called anything but anger._

"_If you didn't want to marry me, Hermione, why the _fuck_ would you stay with me for this long?" Ron said, snarling the words out at her as the tips of his ears turned bright red._

_He stood up then, and she did too, grabbing onto his arm trying to calm him down and make him understand, make him see some sort of sense. There was still sense in this situation, wasn't there?_

"_Harry an-" Hermione started, but was cut off._

"_Oh so it has to do with Harry, does it?" He spat at her as he looked down into her deep brown eyes that were now sparkling with unshed tears._

"_Will you let me finish, Ron?" She said softly, pulling his face so he looked her directly in the eyes. There was a small part of her that wanted to call him Ronald for defense purposes, but seeing as she had just refused his proposal, she didn't._

"_What I was going to say is, Harry and Ginny are not us. You can't just ask me to marry just because you don't want to be the last married out of your siblings, Ron," she said as a tear flowed down her cheek._

"_That's not why I asked you, Hermione!" he shouted at her. _

"_Then why did Harry and Ginny come up when I asked why?" she said to him, her voice raising a little bit, cracking in the process from the hysteria that was about to overcome her._

_He shut his eyes._

"_You said no." he said simply, ignoring her question._

_She didn't respond._

"_This changes everything, you know that right?" he said as he looked down at her petite frame and took her hand._

"_It doesn't…." she sobbed at him, "it doesn't have to!"_

"_IT DOES!" he roared at her, and she took a few steps back from him to the kitchen wall, knocking over the box of take out in the process. _

_He put his long arms on each side of her as he looked into her eyes._

_His voice was steel, "You know how long I've planned this, Hermione? I'll tell you, eight months. I've been holding that damn box in my drawer for the past eight months, sweating with confusion and waiting for the perfect moment." _

_She hated to admit it but she was a little afraid of him, and without access of her wand._

_She looked fearfully into his eyes as the rage continued to grow in them. Suddenly, it stopped. It all stopped and his hands tensed up._

_His voice was still cold, unfamiliar, and distant._

"_Do you love him?" _

_She looked at him then, she saw the insecurity and foolishness that captured his eyes._

_Her voice was dry._

"_Who?" she asked, clearly confused._

_He slammed his hand against the wall angrily, not more than six inches to the left of her head. "You know who I'm talking about, Hermione." he looked at her, still furious. "Do you love him?" he repeated._

"_No, I do _not_ know who you're talking about, Ronald," she said as she gripped both of his arms and shoved them away so she could free herself. After finally succeeding, she started towards the living room._

"_Harry, do you love Harry?" he asked, spitting out Harry's name like it was snake venom behind her._

_She laughed sarcastically, manically. _

_Apparently, this wasn't the right thing to do because he grabbed her arm and spun her so she was facing him._

"_Answer me."_

"_No, I don't love Harry. How many times do I have to tell you? Harry is like a brother to me, Ron. I don't love him in that sense. I love you." _

_Then it was his turn to laugh._

"_If you loved me, you would want to marry me like I want to marry you."_

_She sighed._

"_I don't think we're ready," she said desperately. Even in her own ears it sounded like an excuse._

"_I don't think _you're _ready."_

_She didn't have the nerve to disagree with him._

"_I'm leaving," he stated. With that, he walked out the front door, slamming it shut and a faint _pop_ was heard._

_Needless to say, the ring sat on the ground in the kitchen in a small, broken, white box._

The empty contents of her drink brought her back to reality.

"Refill," she called to the barman, and he sauntered over to her.

"What can I give you this time, Miss?" he asked gruffly.

She weighed her options.

"Just give me something that'll do the job," she smiled warmly at him.

After her drink was refilled, her thoughts were dragged back to Ron. What was she going to do about him? She wanted to keep him as a friend, but the time apart seemed to make her realize she didn't really love him like someone else could. How do you explain that to someone after a twelve year friendship, four year relationship, and a proposal?

She sighed into her drink as she took another sip.

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**Part 2: Who I am hates who I've been.**

She was sitting there as he walked in.

Part of him had been expecting it. He didn't know why he had come to this bar every night since seeing Granger here, but tonight she was here. Drowning in her sorrows, again.

He couldn't see her face, but the wild disarray of curls gave her away.

Walking up to the bar, he waved to the familiar barman.

"Whisky," he said as he sat down.

She turned to him quickly, recognizing the voice. Maybe she was expecting it, too.

"Malfoy!" she let out a surprised yelp.

"Granger," he nodded to her as the brown liquid was poured in front of him.

"Malfoy, I…" she stopped. "I'm sorry, about the last time we spoke. I was going to send you a note tonight about it."

"My words haven't been able to get out of your mind, have they, Granger?" he smirked at her.

She shook her head, "There's no use in denying it. How did you know?"

"You overanalyze everything, Granger," he said to her as he took a drink.

She pushed her hair back from her eyes as she took a drink. He observed her as she did this, realizing that she was drinking quite a lot in a short amount of time.

"You're forgiven," he said to her. It was hard for him to say it, because Draco Malfoy was never one to accept apologies. He never expected them, for he never gave them out himself.

"Thanks," she smiled.

"I do have to say though, Granger," he said before the subject closed, "I do regret everything I did as a boy, I truly am sorry."

She smiled at him, "I believe you."

His face turned into a grin, at least until Draco remembered he was a Malfoy. It quickly disappeared showing an air of nonchalance.

She saw it, of course.

"Why do you do that?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he said quickly, hoping she could just let it go.

"You cover your real feelings, Malfoy. You can't just be happy, you have to be smug about it. Why can't you just feel the way you want to feel?" She inquired lightly, before taking another drink.

"It's the way I was raised," he truthfully replied.

During the silence, he figured he should change the subject.

"I thought you wouldn't have a drink with me, Granger?" he smirked at her.

She chuckled.

"I guess you did get me on that one, but we're not talking court now, so I suppose it doesn't count," she mused.

He smiled at her.

"I guess you do want in my pants then…" he trailed off, teasing her.

"Oh shut up, ferret." She blushed then, a deep red under dim light.

Draco didn't know why that entertained him so much, but it did.

"I have to go," she suddenly said.

"What, why?" he asked, a little bit affronted that she was leaving so soon. He was kind of having fun.

"Something I forgot about," she lied. He saw through it, but decided he'd let her go…this time.

She got her purse out and Draco stopped her.

"I'll pay. Go on," he smiled at her.

She looked a little dumbstruck, but hurried out anyway yelling as she went, "I'll write you for another meeting soon, Malfoy."

Draco smirked into his whiskey as he drained the rest of his drink and threw down a large bill and started to walk home, something he usually wouldn't do.

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**A/N: Ekk! I finished like, the last 3/4ths of this chapter in like half an hour in a crazy rush because I have to be ready for a family party in…20 minutes or so. Haha! Anyway hope you liked it, sorry for any errors, etc. Sorry it took a while, again! Your reviews make my world go round!!!**


	8. Living Out Of Boxes

**DISCLAIMER: I still haven't won Powerball, therefore I am no millionaire. I do not own Harry Potter or anything of that sort.

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**A/N: Back so soon? What's the catch, right? Okay, so my grandmothers funeral is on Halloween. Hopefully I can get back to once-every-two-day-updates again after that. I'm swamped for the rest of the week, so I figured instead of doing the Calculus homework I don't understand, I'll give another update.**

**I reallyreallyreallyreallyreally love reviews. Have I mentioned that?**

**This whole chapter was inspired by the song "Walls" by All Time Low.**

**Review. Make my day. I shall give you a virtual pancake (cookies are so overrated).

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**Part 1: Assurance for the uninsurable. **

The first thing she noticed in the unconscious was how bloody bright it was in the room. Why was it so bright?

Groggily, coherent thoughts started to come back to her as she blinked her eyes open a few times.

Hermione had fallen asleep with the light on.

She didn't remember much coming home, stumbling through the door a little roughly and collapsing on her bed before even changing clothes. She imagined she hadn't brushed her teeth, either, seeing as her breath wasn't tasting its finest.

She groaned as she sat up in bed and immediately headed for the bathroom to get the vile taste out of her mouth.

Thank the heavens it was her day off.

A mind-splitting headache was throbbing her temples as she stumbled around her house, changing into warm sweats and a grey tank top.

Her wand was thankfully in the pockets of the jeans she had worn the previous day (and to sleep).

Muttering a quick spell for her hair, she threw it up in a lazy messy bun, trying to keep the frizz out of her face.

It was only a cup of tea and a half piece of toast later before she fell asleep on her living room couch.

It seemed to her that only minutes later her calm sleep was interrupted by a voice.

"Hermione?" A familiar voice said, waking her.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"Oh, hi Harry," she yawned as he set her coffee down on the small living room table.

She smiled gratefully at him.

"Long night last night?" he inquired lightly.

"You could say that," she said vaguely.

He rose a brow at her and grinned.

"I don't think I want to know."

"You're right," she smiled wryly, "you don't."

He sat down on the sofa as she pulled her knees up to make room for him.

"Ron is with Ginny," Harry said, trying to sound like he was just making small-talk.

In a clipped voice, "That's great."

Harry sighed.

"Have you-" Harry started.

"No." Hermione said, cutting him off.

"Are you sure you don't want to-"

"No."

She picked up her coffee and took a long drink. It was warm, and tingled her throat.

"How's the case going?" Harry inquired, moving to lighter topics.

"It's…different," she said, carefully choosing her words, "Malfoy isn't anything like I thought he was, anyway. And this guy, Andrews, he's got something funny about him."

Harry looked shocked. "You met him?"

Hermione sat up a little more, knowing she would have to go into detail.

"Yes. He wouldn't meet with Malfoy for some reason, but he agreed to meet with me. When I met him, he was under the impression I would be his defense," she snorted.

He chuckled, urging Hermione to go on.

"Anyway, he was outraged that Malfoy was his defense," she frowned at the end.

Harry snickered.

"I would be, too, if I had to have that worthless git defending me." Harry snickered.

Hermione's frown deepened at him.

"He's really nothing like he was at school," she defended him.

Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Well, just err…let me know if you have any problems with him. I can get it sorted out very quickly." Harry offered her, his eyes flashing at the thought of problems with Malfoy.

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes.

"Yes, Harry. I know you have strings, as do I," she reminded him as he smiled.

"Just watching out for you, 'Mione. He could still be dangerous…" Harry trailed off.

"He isn't," she assured him.

A comfortable silence surrounded them.

"So, when do you plan on asking her?" Hermione inquired to Harry.

Harry's forehead creased as he struggled.

"I don't know yet. It feels like I'm waiting for the perfect moment, but it just hasn't come yet. Every time I see her I just want to shout it, but I want it to be right. I want to do this so we'll both remember it forever," he smiled nervously at her.

Hermione had been the first person Harry had told of his plans to propose to Ginny. He wanted a girls opinion on the matter and advice on how to go about it.

Hermione, of course, hadn't said much about it, other than that she was very happy for him, because she knew Ginny would accept in a heartbeat.

Harry smiled at her before remembering he had told Ron the exact same thing.

* * *

**Part 2: Not a date.**

A few hours later after Harry had left and another quick nap, Hermione was greeted by a note in a neat, familiar, script.

_Granger,_

_You never owled me. Did you get home safe? Please join me for dinner tonight, I am starting to enjoy our little tête-à-têtes. _

_DM_

She smiled at the note, she didn't know why but she did.

Of course, nothing had been planned for tonight. Just like every other Saturday night since the break up with Ron.

Grabbing an owl treat for the bird, she stroked it slowly as she grabbed a muggle pen and wrote below his note.

_I wasn't expecting you this soon. I did get home fine. Where are we going?_

_Hermione Granger_

Sure enough, twenty minutes later a reply came tapping at her window. The scrawl seemed a little rushed as she read through it.

_A small place I like to go for privacy. Can I pick you up? It is rather hard to find._

_DM_

She went through her options quickly in her head before sending her address so he could apperate in front of her flat.

Another reply came swiftly.

_I'll be there at 5:30._

_DM_

It was 4:00 already, so she figured she should probably start getting ready.

Looking through her closet, a thought struck her mind. What was she supposed to wear?

After half an hour of indecision, she finally settled on a black dress that complimented her well and a pair of sandals. She often wore things like this to work, so it wasn't like it was a date or anything, was it?

Her hair was finally manageable by that point, and by 5:00 she was set and ready.

The prospect of what he was expecting was humiliating to think about. Would this be a date to him, or would it just be a simple business dinner? She didn't know, but she was even more afraid to ask.

The clock ticked by slowly as she waited for his arrival.

Finally, at 5:25 there was a faint _pop_ outside her door and four swift knocks.

She hurried to the door, opening the door hurriedly.

"Granger," he nodded appreciatively to her.

"Malfoy," she sighed as she took in his semi-formal appearance. Turns out she wasn't overdressed at all. He was wearing a pair of typical black slacks and shiny black shoes with a white button-up long-sleeved shirt.

"Come in," she said once she was done analyzing him.

He smiled at her appearance.

"We have time to kill, I scheduled it for 6:00, actually. I was thinking you'd take some extra time to get ready," he shot a rare smile at her.

"I think you'll come to see, Malfoy, that I'm not like other girls," she smiled at him as he sat down on her kitchen table.

"Would you like anything to drink?" she offered him.

"Just a water, if that's alright."

She pointed her wand at the sink and the still unpacked box of cups as a cup of water zoomed in front of Draco and herself.

He rose an eyebrow at her.

"I just moved in," she smiled, a little embarrassed by her laziness. Next time she had a day off, it was time to unpack some boxes.

He smiled, understanding.

"Have you had a good day questioning my motives?" he teased her.

She blushed a deep crimson.

"I know you, Granger. You were probably worried what _this_," he gestured at them both, "is. I assure you, this is purely business. Though, I can't say I'm bothered by your company anymore." he smiled at her again, he was doing a lot of that lately.

It was odd, the difference between his smirk and his smile. Draco Malfoy was not one to smile. Yet, when it happened, he wore it well.

Hermione immediately relaxed into the situation, and that worried her quite a lot, because she shouldn't be relaxed and comfortable around Malfoy. She needed to be alert for his open attack.

He seemed to sense her change of mood.

"Granger, let's just try to put the past behind us tonight. We shouldn't speak about the case tonight, if we're going to communicate for the next few months before trial. We're going to need to get along…civilly…" he trailed off.

"I know what you mean," she finally spoke up, "and I agree."

He smirked at her. "See, Granger. I can have good ideas from time to time."

She laughed softly. "So, where are we going?"

"Muggle restaurant. I've been there a few times, it's nice when no one recognizes you." he grinned at her.

She couldn't contain her curiosity.

"Malfoy, how is it you know about all of these muggle shops?" she asked.

His face turned to a bit of a frown.

"What do you mean?"

"You go to these muggle places…I don't mean to offend you," she quickly backpedaled, "I just mean, with the way you were raised…" she said, blushing.

He contemplated his answer before saying simply, "I like my privacy."

A few more minutes of pointless small talk went around as they both sipped on water. Hermione glanced up to the clock, and Draco stood up.

"We should get going, Granger."

"Right," she said as she stood, grabbing her jacket off the couch.

"My arm," he gestured to his right arm that she took.

And then they disappeared with a quick _pop.

* * *

_

_**A/N: Again, this may be the last update in October, hopefully I'll be able to get the next chapter out sooner, but I doubt it. Please please **__**please**__** review, tell me what you think. I love it all. Remember, a virtual pancake awaits! Sorry for any grammatical errors, etc. Also, I had to re-upload Ch. 7 because I caught a nasty little error that was bugging me.  
**_


	9. Coloring Books

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Harry Potter or any characters you may recognize.**

**A/N: As promised…VIRTUAL PANCAKES FOR ALL WHO REVIEWED!

* * *

**

**Part 1: Forks and etiquette.**

Hermione hated side-along apparition. It was like sticking your head into a fish bowl and trying to breathe through the water, but being pulled out right before death. Okay, so maybe death was pushing it a little too far, but it didn't change the fact that she didn't like side-along apparition whatsoever.

Somehow, Draco Malfoy had changed that…just a little bit. Barely enough to make a difference, but there was something oddly comforting about disappearing with Draco Malfoy (though she still could name hundreds of different places she'd rather be than doing side-along apparition). Still, she couldn't quite pin what was so different than doing this with Harry or Ron. Of course, she hadn't had to side-along apparate for quite some time now….but she didn't want to think about it.

Instead, Hermione concentrated on her new surroundings. She was in the middle of a alleyway and it was just around dusk. She felt Draco loosen his tensed muscles and she quickly let go of his arm.

"Alright, Granger?" Draco inquired lightly.

"I'm fine," Hermione replied as he led the way towards a sidewalk they walked down.

It was a short walk, half a block at most. Hermione could see the austere sign that was hanging in front of the large window. It was written in an elegant script in white on top of a black foreground color.

Hermione smiled to herself as she studied the restaurant, it screamed Draco Malfoy.

He opened the door as a elderly couple came waddling out. He held it for them and gave a gentle nod in acknowledgment to the man.

"Thanks, son. I'm not twenty-one anymore," he chuckled with a slight wheeze.

Hermione thought she saw a ghost of a smile appear on his face, but due to the fact that she was now standing behind him she couldn't see his face well. When he turned to her, it was gone.

Draco continued to hold the door open for Hermione and she was a little confused by his actions. She stood in the doorway for a couple seconds hesitantly.

"It's the way I was raised, Granger," he rolled his eyes at her. "Before my arm falls off, please," he added sarcastically.

How the hell did he read her so well?

Nevertheless, she took a step into the large restaurant. Hermione heard the quiet closing of the door behind her and Draco took lead into the sitting area where you would wait to be seated.

She moved to sit down before Draco stopped her by putting his hand on her arm.

"We won't be waiting," he smirked at her and slid his hand down to meet hers. He moved quickly through the sitting room and started to weave between the tables towards the back of the building.

The restaurant was very large and spaced out. There were expensive lamps around that accompanied each table that were lit to a comfortable shade. It really was a nice touch, it brought a calming serenity that eased Hermione's nerves.

Eventually, he stopped at a table at the far corner of the room and slid into the large seat. Thankfully, he didn't attempt pull her chair out or keep her hand as she pulled it away from his.

There was a plastic label on the table that had big, black, bolded letters on them.

**RESERVED**

Draco simply moved it to the edge of the table as he played with the numerous forks he was arranging.

Hermione looked at him, astonished.

"You didn't just take this table, did you?" she said in disbelief.

He frowned at her, "I reserved it about two hours ago."

"Oh, right," she said lamely. She felt bad for the accusation but he didn't seem to take it to offense, instead he was now reaching across to her side of the table and moving her forks around.

"I suppose you're going to say that's how you were raised," Hermione said to him as she cocked a brow.

He looked up at her. "I was in etiquette classes by the time I could spell WAND, Granger."

Hermione tried to hold back her snicker, but failed completely and absolutely.

"What's so funny?" Draco frowned as he slid Hermione's set of various utensils and napkin back to her.

"Malfoy, you know the difference between a muggle salad-fork and a dinner-fork," she pointed out to him.

Draco looked outraged for a few seconds and Hermione couldn't help it. She burst into silent giggles.

He scowled at her until she stopped laughing.

"Mother never told me muggles studied them, too."

Hermione snickered at the word "studied".

"Though," he added in thought, "I think I would have refused to study them if I knew muggles were doing the same thing - at least, back then I would have."

"I wasn't aware there was a Wizarding group for etiquette lessons," she said. Always eager to learn more, well, that wasn't something that had changed over the years for Hermione.

"I'm sure if you were you would have had Weasley enrolled in five minutes," he snickered at his own joke.

Hermione tried not to laugh, really- she didn't, but the traitorous chuckle escaped her lips before she could hold it back.

"Mother hired someone to do it for me, eventually other boys joined. She always said one of the main rules for a Malfoy was to have impeccable manners to others…keep the name up," he smiled at her.

But Hermione wasn't looking at him anymore, instead she looked down at her forks.

There was a pregnant silence that came over them, and still Hermione did not look up.

Draco seemed to be searching through his thoughts during his silence until he finally realized his mistake.

"Sorry," he muttered to her.

Hermione sighed. "You don't have to apologize for the same thing twice."

"But I do, Granger. I do. The way I was brought up…Granger, I'm not going to lie and tell you I was pleasant little boy to everyone- because I wasn't and you know that," he took a deep breath, "I treated people I thought were my equals with great care and every action I did was timed in my head. I knew what I had to do and when I had to, and I knew who I was not allowed to have manners with. I'm not trying to say I would have been nice to you in school if I could have been. I was so…" he seemed to look for a suitable word, "brainwashed by my father, my surroundings, everything! At the time, I wanted many things my father wanted so I followed his lead. I was polite to my friends, pure-blood idiots for the most part, but anyone I didn't consider an equal or superior…I was downright awful to," he looked frustrated as he finished his passionate words.

Hermione then felt guilty for making him bring up the subject again. He had already said he was sorry once, and she really did believe him. She wasn't the type of person that needed to hear the horrid word every day.

She moved her hand to cover his two hands that were entwined on the table nervously. "Really, it's okay. You're a changed man," she said softly then smiled at him.

He flashed a rare smile back at her.

They were interrupted by the waitress approaching their table.

"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy," she smiled at him then at Hermione. "My name is Emily and I will be your hostess tonight. Can I get you anything to drink while you look over the menu and wait for your meal?" Emily dropped a menu in front of both Draco and she.

"Water," he said. The waitress looked at Hermione.

"I'll take an iced-tea."

The waitress didn't bother to write it down on the notepad that was dangling off her pouch.

"I'll be right back with that," she said as she picked up the plastic RESERVED sign and walked away.

Hermione paused, not sure on how to start what she was trying to say.

"I'm sorry to break your rule, Draco," she said to him as she carefully used his first name for the first time. It was as good as time as ever. "I really think you should know this though, it's important."

He didn't seem to notice the use of his first name, or maybe he noticed but didn't mind.

He looked confused. "What rule?"

She smiled a grim smile, "You said we weren't to talk about court here."

His confused look faltered and turned to one of slight annoyance. "Oh, that's right."

"Yes…well, do you want to hear it?" she asked him.

"Later," he said a little bit brusque.

Hermione nodded before she looked down at her menu. They sat in silence for a few minutes, but she noticed Draco did not look down at his menu. He apparently knew what he was getting. She rolled her eyes at his predictability.

There was something odd about Draco Malfoy, she could read him - but he certainly wasn't an open book. It reminded Hermione of the used and worn coloring-book she worked with when she was a child. She had to search through the pages to find certain items, some were blandly obvious for the inquisitive child, but some others…others had been a lot harder to find and took a lot of time and patience.

Emily returned with the drinks and pulled out her notepad and she set them down.

"Are you ready yet?" she inquired in a light tone.

* * *

**Part 2: Tips and tricks.**

He didn't know what the feeling was that overcame him when her desert dish was cleared, but he was certain he did not like it. It was a feeling that was familiarized with dread, could it be he was _dreading_ having to leave the presence of Hermione Granger?

Maybe it was that.

Or maybe it was that damn comment she had made at the beginning of dinner to keep his mind turning the whole time, wondering what could be so important about the case that she felt the need to bring it up _tonight_.

He frowned, she had looked like she wanted to just speak to him, no business involved, right?

He struggled to remember the look on her face earlier in the night when he had made his proposition.

"Are you okay?" she disrupted his train of thought.

"I'm fine. Was it a good dinner?" he asked her.

"It was marvelous," she smiled at him, "thank you for bringing me here. I did have a good time and it was nice to get away from work."

They had talked throughout the dinner about small things they had done in the years following the war. He told her about trying to regain respect after the war, and she told him about trying to get away from all of the press after the war. They never went into her relationship with Weasley except for mentioning his name a few times (accompanied with Potter, of course). NEWT results were discussed briefly and how they had impacted their careers. There were a few words of playful banter from Hermione about being second top-of-the-class.

"_At least you can say you're the smartest wizard of our year,"_ she teased as he shot daggers at her. She just laughed and moved on to another topic.

Draco told her about his aspirations to become an offensive attorney and Hermione told him about her early work with S.P.E.W. and the long process of handing it over to Robin Grove so she could focus on her career.

Hermione hadn't mentioned the case again and Draco was beginning to think she had forgotten. That being said, Draco was also beginning to forget that this was _Hermione Granger_.

Draco stood up when Emily returned to clear off the last of the dishes. He picked through his wallet to throw a tip down when Hermione stopped him.

"Let me," she said.

"No. I said I would take you out, and I did. This is my bill," he said to her in a tone that indicated that would be final.

"And I say, you can pay for the bill and I can pay for the tip," she demanded as she reached into her purse.

Emily came back with a entertained look on her face. She apparently had heard their argument.

He glared at her as he kept eye contact and tried to dig through his wallet without her noticing. Hopefully she would be too wrapped up in their glowering contest to notice he was trying to find the money he had safely tucked away. But instead of skillfully sneaking a muggle note to the table, two galleons emerged from his wallet and were thrown down as Draco wore an accomplished look.

Emily looked at the coin funny and Draco blushed, picking up the two coins in a rush and stuffing them back into his pocket.

Thank goodness this place was dimly lit!

But Draco could have sworn he saw a wand being tucked away.

Hermione picked out a thin note from her purse and left it on the table for the young waitress.

Draco scowled and Hermione smirked as they walked back to the register and Draco paid.

After exiting the restaurant (and yes, he had held the door open for her _again _though he had seriously reconsidered the thought after the stunt she had pulled with the tip) they walked together down the car-less street.

The streetlights were on now and it was colder when they reached the dark alleyway that could barely be seen through the night.

Once they were in the alleyway, Draco lit his wand with a quick _Lumos_.

"I had a good time tonight," Hermione said again.

He laughed at her, choosing to forget the tip incident momentarily.

"I would say I did too, but that would make it sound like a date and I wouldn't want to contradict my earlier words."

She laughed, "You're right. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry for having a good time?" he prompted to stall her, he really didn't want to go home.

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, you know what I mean."

He chuckled as the breeze swept past them.

A silence came upon them until Hermione spoke.

"Is now a good time?" she asked him.

He could have fooled around with the preliminaries, but he figured he shouldn't play dumb and instead replied, "No, not really."

He saw her expression change to one of annoyance.

Sarcastically she spoke, "Oh. Okay, then. Just let me know when you're ready. I'm only freezing my arse off."

He laughed at her again. "What I mean is, it's cold out here, as you've pointed out, Granger."

She looked a little taken aback. "Where do you want to go then?"

He smirked at her as he made up his mind.

"I've seen your home, let's go to mine. Unless you're tired, of course…" he trailed off.

He was baiting her but she knew it. The day Hermione Granger let a silly notion such as _sleep_ get in the way of business was the day Harry Potter stopped saving people, and that simply wasn't going to happen.

"Your house, then."

**A/N: I am so so so so sorry. This has taken FOREVER and there is no excuse for that. I meant to get this up in the first week of November, but that obviously didn't happen. Sorry, I'm a bit caught up with NaNoWriMo at the time. If you haven't heard of it, it's a program going on right now in the month of November for young writers. Requires 50K words and I'm about half way, and this is a class assignment! So sorry! Will try to update soon. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, I sincerely hope you lovelies do write more. I swear I read them all. **

**By the way, thanks to kazfeist for informing me on law in a review. I really don't know much but the basics, thanks for that! =]**


	10. The Gentleman

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Harry Potter. Please, don't sue me!

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**Part 1: Cruel truths.**

The cold air hit her like ice. Strong winds hurtled themselves at Draco and Hermione. It was marginally colder here (wherever _here_ was, she wasn't too sure where Draco lived) compared to the dark alleyway, and the sudden change of temperature caused a shiver to roll down her spine a few seconds after they arrived. Draco glanced over to her.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

She nodded to him and he frowned.

"Sorry, it's usually colder here than the rest of England," he gave her an apologetic look as he hurried forward. "Come on, my flat is about half a block away. We'll be there in no time."

She followed him in quick, long strides. They only passed one other house until Draco turned into a sidewalk leading to a large, white two-story house. Though it was quite dark outside, she could still tell that the wide front lawn was managed well.

Draco hurried up the three steps leading to the front door. He opened the door and then stood by it until Hermione passed by and into his house.

She paused once inside the dark house, but it wasn't more than a second before the lights flickered on. Hermione looked around the house, a little astounded by how austere it was. There were two black couches angled throughout the living room that was covered with white carpet that Hermione was now standing on. The white walls of the expensive house were bare and there was a fireplace that had simultaneously lit up when the lights came on. Above the fireplace stood an enormous muggle television.

Draco Malfoy was a complex man, and she was brought back to her earlier thoughts about predictability.

She let out a soft laugh at her earlier thoughts of Draco being predictable.

He turned to her with a bemused expression on his face.

"What?"

She smiled at her own little joke. "It's nothing, just a thought."

"Oh, right," he smirked at her, "and if you told me every one of _those_ that mind of yours has, we'd be here all night," he drawled.

"Oh ha-ha," she said sarcastically.

He sat down on the smaller of the two couches and raised a brow at her.

"Why are you still standing?" he asked confused.

"Oh, um…right," Hermione said awkwardly before taking a seat on the longer couch.

A few seconds passed by before Draco spoke.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" he asked.

Hermione contemplated before answering. "Er…no, I'm fine."

He didn't say anything after that, so the silence settled back upon them.

She didn't know where to begin. The last thing she wanted to do was upset him after they had had such a wonderful evening together. But then again, not telling him could now would probably lead to a huge argument in the near future. He was bound to find out sooner, rather than later.

After a minute he let out an exasperated sigh. "Granger, I thought you had something to say."

"What?" she said, snapping out of her train of thought. "Oh, right. Sorry," she gave him a weak smile.

He smiled in encouragement at her.

She took a deep breath before she started. "I suppose I should start from the beginning. I gave Andrews a visit the other night to try and get some information out of him," she paused to look at Draco. His face was one of indifference.

"And did he speak with you?" he asked carefully.

Hermione nodded and then looked down at her shoes. "He was under the impression I was his defender and you were the prosecution."

To Hermione's surprise, however, when she looked up to see Draco's face, it did not reflect any anger. That wasn't to say he was smiling, but she had expected a fuming Draco Malfoy.

"Well…" Draco drawled, "I can't say I'm pleased to know this information, but at least now I know why he wouldn't meet with me."

Hermione thought her mouth was hanging wide open by the time he finished his sentence. Hermione would have been insulted at the harsh words directed at Draco, were she in his place. But, it seemed that she was angrier than Draco was.

"Wait, wait," Hermione said backtracking, "You do understand when I say he thought you were prosecution…" she trailed off not wanting to repeat the exact words Andrews had spoken.

"That my client was offended when he found out I was defending him?" Draco said in a calm voice, "That is, assuming you told him the truth," he added in afterthought.

Hermione frowned at Draco.

"I did," she said as she nodded slowly. "But I don't understand, Malfoy. Why aren't you angry?"

He seemed to sigh as he stood and walked over to his fireplace where there was a bottle of firewhisky and a few shot glasses were stacked.

"Would you like one?" he prompted her, ignoring the question.

"No, really. I'm fine," she said as she tried to go through the possibilities of why Draco Malfoy was not angry or offended by this new piece of news.

He poured one for himself, setting the bottle down on the table left open, and bringing a spare glass to the coffee table.

Instead of sitting on the couch, he sat on the carpet as he downed a shot and set it back on the table. As he poured another, he started to speak.

"Granger, I've been in the field of law for three years now," he said softly. "Do you honestly think this hasn't happened before?" He finished the second shot just as quickly.

"Do you really think anyone in their right mind would want a _Malfoy_ defending their right to freedom after the war, after the way my reputation went? I told you in the café, Granger. I know _you _are smart enough to know I have changed, or at least I'm hoping you are," he shot a weak smile up at her from the carpet, "Everyone else, however…they aren't as understanding. They see me as a clone from my father, and it was no secret he was in the inner circle of Voldemort. Nearly everyone knows about my involvement during Dumbledore's death. How can I be angry when this is something I deserve?"

"You have changed. Anyone with two eyes can see that, Malfoy," she tried to assure him. But then again, she realized he had a point. Many people _did _know about the fall of Albus Dumbledore and how Draco Malfoy was the core of the attack.

And of course, the hesitation and vulnerability of Draco Malfoy was not a public fact. There were no public records of the things Harry had told she and Ron about that night. In fact, even if there were, people wouldn't want to believe it. Voldemort was gone, and the world needed someone to blame, someone to punish.

He poured himself another drink. "People see what they want to see."

Those words brought back a vivid image of her fifth year. The suffering Harry had gone through when most witches and wizards didn't want to believe Voldemort was back.

And with that, she couldn't bring herself to disagree. Instead, she took the spare glass and let Draco pour a drink for her.

* * *

**Part 2: The right thing.**

Twenty minutes later, Draco and Hermione sat next to each other on the clean, white carpet in his home.

Hermione's legs were curled up and she was slightly angled to face him.

They had been taking turns taking shots, and some small-talk was made about things they hadn't covered during the dinner. Much to Draco's pleasure, all of the courtroom talk had disappeared and they settled on a talking about the way they both had grown up. To his surprise, he didn't feel uncomfortable talking about the way his father had always pressured him to be better than everyone else and the anxiety it had caused him as a teen to live up to the Malfoy reputation.

She didn't seem to feel any discomfort when she shared her childhood problems about not fitting in with other muggle children and being teased by some in primary school (Draco felt a small pang of guilt for making the transition from the muggle world to the wizarding world harder on her). She talked about the solitude she found in books and studying during the confusing times when she thought something was wrong with her. Draco found himself intrigued to know more about this girl he never took the time to understand. He knew she was intelligent, but never knew why she had depended and loved that aspect of life so much.

Finally, Draco poured the final amounts of the bottle into his glass and finished it. The wooziness that made his stomach flutter was recognizable and he knew that he was pretty wasted.

Just as he made to grab his wand on the coffee table to summon another bottle, Hermione stopped him.

"I think I should be going now," she said, and Draco was pleased to hear a little bit of reluctance in her voice.

"Aw, c'mon, Granger. It's only," he peeked down at his watch. Why were the hands moving so fast? He needed a new watch.

"One thirty in the morning," Hermione said with a small laugh. She grabbed onto the couch they were leaned against and tried to stand up. Obviously, this was not a good idea because she stumbled back down and stepped on Draco's hand that he was using to try to stand himself up.

"Ow!" he squeaked as she quickly lifted her foot back up and toppled onto his couch behind him. He stuck a few fingers into his mouth to ease the pain and whined.

"Baby," she said and he heard her snicker.

Draco quickly took his hand out of his mouth before letting out a defiant "Am not!"

"Are, too."

Draco stood up with as much balance as he could hold and looked down at her. She was laying on the couch looking up at him with a smirk that resembled his.

And that was when he realized he really wanted to kiss her. All thoughts of reason quickly ran out the door, along with the reality of the situation. He felt like he was dreaming.

He saw her face soften just slightly and he started to descend.

He paused about a foot away from her face with both hands holding himself up against the sofa as he remained standing in a hunch.

"Tell me, Granger," he whispered softly as he looked into her eyes. "Why did you tell me about Andrews?"

She seemed to whisper, too. "I thought we weren't supposed to talk court tonight, Malfoy. You're breaking your own rules."

"You broke it first," he pointed out. "But you're avoiding my question, why did you tell me?"

She seemed to deliberate his answer before speaking, "Because it was the right thing to do."

Of course. Leave it to bloody Granger to always do the right thing, the noble thing. He was only fooling himself thinking she had told him for ulterior reasons, because of course, that was not Hermione Granger. That was him. Draco Malfoy, the man who never did anything moral or decent unless he got something in return.

As quick as he had descended, he lifted himself back up. He gave his hand to Hermione to help her off the couch, and helped her stay balanced once she was standing, too.

"I'll take you home," he said to her in a cold voice.

He saw her face fall slightly and then sighed. He shouldn't be doing this, it wasn't her fault he had misread her intentions. He shouldn't take it out on her. Draco tried to soften his features, finding it difficult to keep a kind demeanor when he was so frustrated inside.

"You don't need to take me home, Malfoy," she said awkwardly. "Plus, that would probably make this a date, and I thought you didn't want that."

He decided to ignore her last statement. "Granger, I'm taking you home. You're too pissed to get there yourself, and I want to make sure you make it alright. I don't think you'd remember to owl me when you get there."

She muttered something about being a perfectly capable witch, but instead of complaining aloud, she let him guide her towards the door.

The cool breeze hit them as they hurried down the dimly lit street and towards the point they had apparated to.

This time, it was her that gripped his arm as they apparated to her flat.

Upon arriving to their destination, they both stumbled around for a few seconds.

Draco quickly grabbed onto her arm and tried to lead her.

"Where are you going?" she asked him bemused.

"To your flat, dummy," he answered a little confused.

"That's funny, because the last time I checked, my flat was in that direction," she said gesturing the opposite direction, and then she laughed.

"I knew that, Granger. I was just testing to err…see how drunk you are," he said piecing his words together quickly.

"Right," she said, and then allowed him to guide her to her door.

When they finally reached her flat, he reluctantly let go of her arm.

She stood there for a few seconds before laughing.

"What?" he asked.

She gave him a rueful look. "This was everything you told me it wasn't going to be, Malfoy."

"What do you mean?" he blushed.

"You've been the perfect gentlemen tonight. You acted as if you were on a date, Malfoy. You opened doors for me, paid for the bill (at this, Draco scoffed remembering the tip she had thrown down), and you walked me home. You said this wouldn't be a date," she accused in a childish manner.

Draco wore an entertained look on his face. "Just because I have good manners to a woman, it doesn't mean this was a date," he said. "It isn't my fault every man you go out with acts like a Neanderthal."

She scowled at him.

"Did you want it to be?" she asked as she opened the door to her flat.

Draco turned, starting to walk away. He smirked to himself. "When I find out, I'll send you the memo, Granger. Goodnight."

* * *

**A/N: Oh, dear. I can't believe I've waited this long to update. I apologize! Basketball season just started up, it's preseason now and I've been dying during conditioning, (too many oreos, :x) so when I get home most of the time it's just to pass out. Ha. On the upside, I am finished with NaNoWriMo so I'll have a lot more time to write this month. Anyway, I'll try to get the next one out faster, it seems like we're making progress, isn't it? Ah, well. Please, review. I need to thank Catalytic Angel for reviewing just a few hours ago, even though my last update was a while back. If I hadn't gotten that review in my e-mail, I probably wouldn't have updated until next week or so. I read every single one of them, so please, let me know what you like and don't like. Thanks for your time everyone. Hope all of the Americans had a excellent Thanksgiving. (: **


	11. Cryptic Remarks

**Part 1: No morse code here.**

It took sixteen tries until Hermione let out a frustrated groan. No matter how hard she tried, her mind couldn't properly focus on the task at hand. Her brain was busy calculating the intentions of Draco Malfoy.

Could the man be any more infuriating?

She quickly tried to shake the reoccurring thoughts from her mind as she skimmed the short note she had awoken to early in the morning yet again.

_Granger,_

_Would you like to have dinner with me this evening?_

_DM_

She didn't know how to reply to that kind of question after his statement the night previous on their outing. Did this mean he was actually interested in, dare she say it, dating her? Perhaps it was just the alcohol. Or maybe he wanted to get her sidetracked throughout the case.

She had to laugh out loud at that theory. In all her years of being in law, there had been many techniques to get her concentration altered to another subject by her opponent, but not once had it involved wooing. She snorted. If there was any male who would be shallow enough (and attractive enough) to attempt that, it would be Draco Malfoy.

Okay, so maybe he wasn't shallow, Hermione thought with a pang of guilt. She didn't really know him enough to say that, but it was a nice idea to play with given his history.

She ran through the scenario again, trying to pick up on little hints he may have dropped as she observed the note again.

After realizing there was no special code or invisible handwriting on the worn parchment, Hermione finally gave up.

Grabbing yet another piece of clean paper (that was likely to be crumbled into a frustrated ball like the sixteen previous), she gave up with the quill and grabbed a muggle pen off her desk.

_That would be fine._

_Hermione Granger_

She glanced down at the paper and groaned.

"That would be fine," really? Could she get any more formal about this small ordeal?

Predictably, she hurriedly bunched the paper up and grabbed another clean sheet.

_Sounds lovely._

_Hermione Granger_

After many conflicting arguments in her head, she finally closed her eyes and sent the message to him.

As she got up to clean off the desk filled with wasted parchment, two knocks sounded on her door. She rolled her eyes at Harry's predictability.

"Come in, Harry!"

The door squeaked open and Hermione glanced up as she pushed all of the paper into her desk-bin. "How did you know it was me?"

"You knock twice," she smiled up at him.

He scratched the top of his head and levitated the two coffees onto her table with his wand. "A little stressed, Hermione?"

She got up and gave him a hug. "No. Why would you say that?"

He snickered, "Because it looks like you just wrote on the whole Forest of Dean."

Harry then released her from the tight grip that compared well to their friendship.

"Just work business," she waved it off as she strode over to her table picking up the scalding coffee and sipping on it slowly.

"What are you doing today?" Harry asked as he took a seat and crossed one of his legs over the other.

"I have the day off, so I'm going to try to catch up with some research on Malfoy. Later tonight I was invited out to dinner," she was careful not to mention Draco was the one this diner would take place with.

Harry raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to go on. When she didn't, he prompted her.

"Dinner? With who?" Harry asked, quickly going into over-protective-big-brother mode.

Hermione internally groaned. "Malfoy. Dinner with Malfoy, Harry."

Harry coughed on his drink, and spit a little onto his white shirt. He cussed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pointed her wand at the brown stain, and it disappeared in an instant.

"This isn't getting to anything..." Harry paused, not knowing what words to use, "Ron-like, is it?"

Hermione blushed at his terms. Of course, Harry hadn't ever seen Hermione with another man besides Ron (and maybe Krum, if he counted that).

"No, Harry. It hasn't." Yet, she internally added. She wanted to tell Harry everything, tell him about Malfoy's actions the night previous on their not-date, about the words Malfoy had spoken that implied he didn't know if he wanted it to be a date or not, however, she knew if she told Harry this he wouldn't like it very much given their history with Malfoy. The war was still, understandably, a touchy subject for all three of them.

Harry let out a sigh in relief and took another drink of his coffee. "Okay, good. That would absolutely kill Ron."

Hermione couldn't bring her eyes to meet his.

* * *

**Part 2: A battle of wits.**

Draco Malfoy was a very observant man.

And for that fact, and that fact alone, he knew Hermione Granger had tried very hard to perfect the last note she had written him.

Draco could feel the stress radiating from the note, even in the first letter. He noticed the capitalized "S" held a solid dot at the top, noting the hesitation she had probably held before starting the letter. The muggle pen she had used had slipped, nearly creating a tear in the fragile paper.

He decided to toy with her a bit as he grabbed his quill and another sheet of paper.

_Do I sense sarcasm in that, Miss Granger? _

_DM_

He smirked at his own intelligence as he lay his head between his hands, stretching out on the longer of his two couches and awaited her reply.

He waited, eventually falling asleep in the comfortable position.

Two hours later when Draco awoke he found that Hermione had replied. He opened up the folded parchment eagerly and skimmed the lines quickly.

_I haven't made up my mind yet. When I figure it out, I'll be sure to let you know._

_Hermione Granger_

That sneaky little witch! She had used (more or less) the same words he had used in reply to a question of hers.

He couldn't be bothered to grab another sheet of paper, so instead he scribbled below her handwriting.

_You can't use that term, Granger! I used it first, you word-stealing little wench! _

_DM_

After sending the message off, Draco decided he should prepare for his dinner with Granger if he wanted to be presentable.

He hurried through his drawers looking for something suitable to wear while trying to ignore the nagging feeling at the pit of his stomach that was held with an emotion he couldn't quite decipher - much thanks to his overly inflated head. If Draco Malfoy had ever questioned his confidence before with a female, he would have associated the feeling with one of nerves.

After fifteen minutes of scrambling to find something in his closet that fit an informal occasion, Draco gave up on his attire and headed straight for the shower. On the way, another message had appeared on his coffee table and Draco scanned it over.

_I was not aware your name was in that sentence, Malfoy. Perhaps there is some sort of subliminal message I missed, but then again I also was not aware you hadn't graduated second year. "Word-stealing," really, Malfoy?_

_What time do you want me to be there?_

_Hermione Granger_

Despite the insults thrown into her little paragraph, he couldn't help but be amused with their banter and her wit. It was…oddly refreshing to speak with someone who could compete with him intellectually instead of the usual Marcus Flint type.

He found himself smiling as he replied to her letter.

_Oh, it is. You just can't see it because you're not gifted as I am. And I'll have you know that word-stealing is a perfectly acceptable assumption for your little retort. Did you think I was plastered to the point where I wouldn't remember what I said last night, Granger?_

_Be at my flat by five. _

_DM_

On the way to his shower Draco was thinking about what she would say when she read his note. He tried not to smirk at the awkwardness he had injected into the situation by bringing up the night before, but he _was_ Draco Malfoy and the smirk could not keep off his face as he undressed and started the hot water. In fact, Draco was so pleased with himself he forgot to turn on the cold water to even out the temperature. Needless to say, the smirk disappeared off his face when he yelped, cringing away from the scalding-hot water that cascaded down his broad shoulders.

* * *

**Part 3: Cryptic remarks.**

Okay, so maybe you could find man that was more infuriating than Draco Malfoy. Perhaps you could even find a man with more sarcasm in his personality than him, too. But it could not be argued that you could find a man more egotistical than Draco.

Hermione tried to hold back the snort that was threatening to overpower her, but it was no use.

"_You just can't see it because you're not as gifted as I am."_

For being so smart and witty, Draco Malfoy was a complete moron. His head needed to be brought back from the galaxy it was currently situated in, because it was obviously doing his brain cells no good.

Hermione usually was a modest, humble girl when given compliments on her intelligence and skill but there still was a certain amount of pride she held when people called her the 'Brightest Witch of the Generation' (of course she would never admit it mattered to her). It was nearly unprecedented of someone to say they were more gifted than Hermione Granger, because she had it all. Skill, experience, knowledge, and quick-reflexes had always been on her side as she aged.

Rolling her eyes at his nerve, she scribbled beneath his writing.

_Tell me, what's it like to have your head located in the same constellation as your name?_

_Hermione Granger_

Satisfied with her comeback, she sent the message off and started on a cup of coffee, taking slow sips as she observed one of the cases Draco had won.

As she observed the transcripts of the trial, she noticed how diverse his techniques were. On one day, he had used the jury to his strength, drawing out humane emotions to bring empathy to his client. The next day, he had made valid counter-arguments that shut down nearly all of the opposing lawyers claims. On the third day of trial, he brought evidence to his defense and took a bold risk by letting his defendant on stand to talk and get cross-examined (which was nearly unheard of in Wizard law).

Draco Malfoy was a better lawyer than she had originally given him credit for, and now she knew she had to be on watch for any tricks up his sleeve. Right now, she couldn't be distracted from the case by his advances and cryptic remarks. He probably had a whole bunch prepared to throw her off. Well, it was going to take more than that to fool Hermione Granger.

It wasn't long before Malfoy replied to her again, this time on a new sheet of parchment.

_Go for comfort. No need to dress up for me tonight, Granger. _

_DM_

After reading the note, she promptly burst into laughter. The reply was a white-flag. He was trying to change the subject now, which roughly translated to "you win, now shut the hell up and let me distract you."

Not feeling the need to reply to this information, Hermione thought about what he had say. What she was going to wear tonight hadn't even occurred her yet, but now that she thought about it she should start getting ready. It was already four o'clock and she hadn't even showered yet.

Hermione rushed through her shower, mentally debating what she would wear.

Tonight, she promised herself, I won't focus on Draco, the person. I need to focus on Draco, the lawyer. It sounded crude, yes, but she couldn't let anything get in the way of winning this case and somewhat restoring her somewhat damaged reputation (or perhaps it was just her pride) as the most trusted lawyer.

Suddenly, a stroke of brilliance hit her. Well, if he was going to be like that with all of the cryptic remarks, who said _she_ couldn't distract _him_ tonight? Two could play at this game.

* * *

**A/N: OH MY GOD. I am so sorry! I really didn't mean for this to take this long, but time flies by, especially in December/January. You see, I'm a Senior in High School and I'm having to do scholarship essays & college applications. It really isn't all that fun, but what can you do, right? Anyway, with basketball practice every single effin' day but Sunday, it's hard to squeeze in time to write or for that matter, breathe. Between homework, basketball, school, college, I'm literally swamped. But the good news is most deadlines are…well…now, and my basketball season is nearly finished (this bit makes me sad, I'm a senior!) it'll be a lot easier for me to jam in time to write.**

**I need to thank **GorgeouslyXHomicidal **for reviewing a few days ago. It got me off my lazy butt to write this chapter up, I hope you guys liked it, even though it was excruciatingly short and a filler. I'm not too happy with this to be honest. I wanted to fit in the dinner scene in this chapter but I don't think I'll be able to finish the chapter for a while unless I end it here. If it seems like this chapter wasn't as good as the others, I apologize severely. It could be because we play against the State Champs tomorrow night, and it determines our playoff position for States. I'm just a wee bit nervous!**

**Anyway, hope you're all having a great new year and such. I thank you all for the lovely reviews I cherish. Leave this starving writer a little bit more, even if it is just to nag at me for not updating! **


	12. The Smartest Witch

**Part 1: Comfort.**

Draco Malfoy was a funny man.

He had told her to dress for comfort, did he think she had overdressed on previous outings? Hermione frowned. She hadn't gotten _that_ worked up about it, had she? Or perhaps he just thought she wasn't comfortable in her clothes on the not-dates under the intensity of his gaze.

Hermione shook her head, trying to rid the ridiculous thoughts that had came up from a simple statement.

Looking through her drawers, she searched for something that would put him at ease with her comfort levels.

As she searched, her mind was clouded again with theories on Malfoy. She decided to go with the best plausible theory. Draco Malfoy intended on seducing her with cryptic remarks and romantic advances so she wouldn't focus on the case.

It was the only thing that made sense, right? Draco Malfoy couldn't possibly want to _date_ her, _could he?_

Quickly dismissing the ridiculous notion, she went on through her thoughts. So if Malfoy was going to try to _woo_ her, she wouldn't make it easy on him. She wouldn't hide any of her habits and try to be the perfect girl she always tried to be around potential-future-partners. Instead, Hermione Granger was just going to be herself.

* * *

**Part 2: Shakespeare, the sport.**

"Pajama's, Granger, really?"

A blond brow rose as Draco stepped aside to let her in, bowing slightly.

Shrugging, "You said to dress comfortably."

He chuckled, "I guess I did."

Hermione pushed the slippers off her feet that was slightly awkward to use with the white socks on her feet.

The door shut behind them and Hermione was welcomed into the home with the kitchen table set for two (thankfully, he didn't go as far to bring out candles).

She noticed he was dressed in gray slacks and a white button-up long sleeved shirt that was halfway rolled up on each side with small orange splatters across the front, but he wasn't wearing any socks. Apparently, this was comfort to Draco.

She wondered if he meant to look that sexy and then held back a snort. _Probably._

"It smells good," Hermione commented as the warm Italian aroma filled the air. "Spaghetti?"

Draco frowned at her, "Do you want something else?"

Hermione was quick to shake her head, "No, no, spaghetti is fine. It's just something I didn't expect, that's all."

"It won't be done for another twenty minutes. Have a drink with me," Draco motioned to his couches where there was a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses on the coffee table. However, once reaching his couches he plopped down onto the floor and leaned his back against the couch. He looked up at her expectantly and when she didn't make any movement, patted the area of carpet next to him with two slaps.

Hermione frowned, wondering why he never sat down on the couches but sat down nevertheless.

"This isn't becoming a healthy pattern," Hermione said as he poured them each a drink.

"Sometimes you just need to let loose, Granger," Draco replied to her as he took a gulp of his drink. There was a loud clatter as he set the half-empty cup of firewhisky down on the table, and then he licked his lips excruciatingly slow.

Quickly, Hermione brought her own drink to her lips and sipped slowly as she calculated his actions. She felt like shouting 'Aha!' at the moment. So he _was_ trying to seduce her!

Sneaky little ferret.

Remembering the job she had come to do, she set the glass down with less clatter than he had and bit on her bottom lip.

Hermione hadn't ever tried seducing a man, never personally holding the childish need to feel loved. She was tentative when she approached the idea of countering his sexual advances to confuse him, but it was the best strategy she had seeing as it seemed this was more his area of expertise. Frankly, she wasn't sure if she could trust herself against Malfoy if she didn't have her own personal defenses set up.

_Strictly business, _she replayed to herself over and over in her head as she felt Malfoy's lingering gaze on her lips. She couldn't help but feeling a little smug at the way he looked at her. It meant she was going to be better than she had originally thought, despite her inexperience. And there always was something to be said about having some amount of affect on _Draco Malfoy_.

Of course, the slight blush on her face was from the firewhisky, and definitely not because of the intensity of his heated gaze.

"How was your day?" he asked, bringing her out of her long train of thought.

"Could have been better, could have been worse," she replied vaguely.

He arched an eyebrow and then took another drink, polishing off his first cup.

"How so?" he asked as he poured himself another drink and refilled hers to the brim at the same time. She wanted to roll her eyes. Apparently, he thought it would be easier to seduce her if she was drunk.

"That's just the way I look at all of my days, Malfoy. Every day I have I know they can possibly be a _lot_ worse. For instance, the day the I learned about the Inkwell case," Hermione replied, cringing at the memory. "And then there really isn't such thing as being _too _happy, is there? So it can always be better," she reasoned.

"Ah, Granger, that's where you're wrong. When I was a boy I had everything I wanted, anything I asked for was mine…yet it never was enough for me. I had too much happiness, and trust me, Granger, it's not something that helps your maturity," Draco replied wisely and then took a deep sip from his drink.

Hermione followed with a drink of her own to ponder those words.

"True, Malfoy. But my definition of happiness isn't buying my friends," she stopped quickly when she saw the sneer forming on Draco's face.

"No, Draco. Listen," she lifted a finger to his lips before he could say anything. "I really can't see you being all buddy-buddy with Crabbe or Goyle back at Hogwarts, so maybe _that's_ where you were missing happiness. They aren't exactly the best intellectual company and you're much smarter than that."

Maybe it was the look in Hermione's eyes, or the soft feel of her finger brushed up against his dry lips, or just the raw honesty in her voice as she actually _complimented_ him, but the angry retort he had been waiting to spit at her died at once in his throat, replaced with a dry feeling and an intense need to swallow his saliva.

"Please understand I'm not trying to insult you, Draco," she pleaded with him.

He nodded and she sighed in relief, letting her hand drop back into her lap.

"If you're going to make assumptions about my childhood, can I ask you a question about yours, then?" he asked her. _Not that her assumption wasn't true_, he added in afterthought in his head.

She frowned at him but nodded nonetheless.

"Weasley and Potter…they aren't exactly up to your par either intellectually, are they? I mean, maybe Potter, but what made you so interested in Weasley?"

Her frown deepened and she thought about the question.

"They saved my life so many times, Malfoy. I'm sure if Harry hadn't been so focused on Voldemort and the War he could have concentrated more on his studies. And Ron, well…he may have a horrid temper at times, and can be a little dimwitted, but he's so sweet and genuine with me. There weren't many…males I was close with besides Harry and Ron, and I never felt anything for either of them…at first. Ron was just the one to care enough about me to romance me. After all, I am human, Malfoy. A human girl who likes to know she's appealing in some way or another. It was just bound to happen, and I ran with it," Hermione took a deep breath and took another drink.

Malfoy looked like he was thinking very hard about her words, frowning.

"So did you ever really love him?" he asked after she put her empty cup down on the table.

"Of course I love him!" she exclaimed. "He's been my best friend for years, Malfoy. We've been through hell and back together, the three of us, there are things and bonds you just can't erase after all of these years," Hermione said, dully noting that her glass was yet again filled up.

_He must have charmed it._

"No, no, Granger…" Malfoy backed up. "I mean, did you _love_ him? Are you _in love_ with him?" he persisted.

She frowned, trying to think of a way to put her relationship with Ron into words.

"I…I think so. I don't think it was a 'Romeo and Juliette' sort of love, but just a love that married couples have after years of marriage. It didn't have the…passion that I used to read about as a child," Hermione said.

Truthfully, she hadn't talked about this subject so much…even with Harry. In fact, she hadn't even acknowledged the fact that she felt like this.

"Romeo and Juliette?" Draco asked.

"Muggle play. You've never heard of Shakespeare?"

"Sounds like a demented sort of sport," Draco said. "I should check on the food," he sat his cup down and stood up. "I'll be right back."

"Okay, I'll just be sitting here," Hermione said and noticed his back was turned. She bit her lip again. "Come back quickly, Draco," she said softly.

He turned to look at her abruptly and she saw his eyes go a little unfocused. She wanted to smirk in triumph. This was definitely working to her advantage.

A couple of minutes passed by and Hermione was left with the opportunity to lift the refill charm Draco had placed on her cup and instead, double his.

"Ouch!" she heard a shriek from the kitchen.

"Malfoy? What's wrong?" she shouted to the kitchen as she polished the rest of her drink off.

"Umm…nothing!" said a shaky voice. She giggled.

She walked through the room and quietly approached the kitchen door that was opened. She leaned against the door and folded her arms watching the situation ahead of her.

Draco's back was turned to her, sleeves rolled up even higher than they had been initially. When he turned to the side to grab another spoon out of a drawer, she could see his hair in a disarray due to the steam from the stove. Now there were even more orange splatters on his shirt, a few spots actually on the back of his shirt. She wondered how he had done _that_.

She watched him panic with the food and smile at the sight. When another bubble popped in the pan and the sauce same up to hit him in the face he let up a quiet yelp. She couldn't help it then, and giggled.

Draco froze and turned to her looking a little embarrassed.

After settling down from her fits of giggles she walked over to him and turned the stove heat down.

"And using this would help your attire," she pointed to the apron hanging above his kitchen sink.

"The maid look does not suit me, Granger," he said sarcastically.

"I happen to think a man who can cook is very attractive," she said playfully, trying to ease his comfort and get him out of his sarcastic and moody attitude.

Draco's face softened. "Then an apron, it is," he said, looking her straight in the eye as he grabbed the apron and unfolded it.

"Help me put it on?" he asked her and she laughed.

"_Scourgify,"_ she muttered while she pointed to his shirt. It cleaned of all of it's orange stains at once .

"Can't tie a knot yourself, Malfoy?" she teased, but grabbed the robe anyway.

She untied the rope and stood behind him, going up onto her tippy-toes to slip the halter through his neck, then tying off the apron on his back loosely.

She wondered if she had imagined him tensing at the accidental brush of her fingers against his cool neck when she had slipped it over his head and breathed against the back of his neck.

He turned around swiftly and looked her in the eye as she bit her lip.

And she knew what was going to come next.

His lips descended very quickly and his hands shot up to the back of her neck to hold her lips to his with pressure. Despite the pressure, it was still a very gentle kiss. There was a certain sweetness to the moment that she couldn't quite pinpoint.

She felt a slight tug at her bottom lip that shot a tingle down her spine, and it instantly snapped her out of the haze. She cut the kiss off quickly, taking a deep intake of air as he retreated.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, seething.

"Smartest witch of our age, my arse," he muttered.

"What was that, Malfoy?" she asked again, waiting.

"_That_, was me kissing you, Granger," he replied bluntly.

Her anger only increased, but at this point she couldn't figure out who her anger was directed towards. Herself, for enjoying it so much and knowing what the intense gaze in his eyes meant, and knowing what he was going to dare to do. This game of cat and…well, cat had been getting old. Someone would have to push the limit and call the bluff first, and obviously he was willing to push her to that limit.

The real question was, why she let him.

* * *

**A/N: Again, sorry for the late update. At least I'm still writing, right? Anyway, we've finally reached the part I originally imagined happening. Now everything gets about fifty times more fun. Please review, all that jazz. I really appreciate all of it. Sorry for any errors, I've been up late doing homework and I can feel my contacts ready to fall out. I haven't been around much because basketball season is over and I'm getting prepared for graduation this year and such. Anyway, I originally intended to update this on Saturday, but due to the earthquake in Chili all of Hawaii had a tsunami warning, so I wasn't exactly around at home (and yes, I do live in Hawaii). All thoughts and prayers with anyone with family or friends in Chili. Stay safe everyone! **

**Much love for all the reviews for last chapter.**


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